


Elegy for Elpis

by Eli_Emu, QueenOfPentalcles (Eli_Emu)



Series: Borderlands Blues [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: AI, AI Digi-Jacks, Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, au-less fantastical technology, borderlands: pre sequel, developing consciousness, no new you stations, no other vault hunters, protect timothy, timothy slowly becoming a badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 21:43:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 46,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14411151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eli_Emu/pseuds/Eli_Emu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eli_Emu/pseuds/QueenOfPentalcles
Summary: “Timothy made a lot of bad decisions... So here he was alone on Elpis, with no way out and no official papers because, to put the cherry on top, he didn’t officially exist anymore. God, he sure helped that not everyone on Elpis was as mad as they made Pandorans up to be.”---Timothy’s boss sends him down alone, with minimal training, a couple of guns, and a couple of AI’s so experimental that don’t even have their learning algorithms up and running. There’s a lot on the line and Timothy is the man for the job; mostly because he’s the only one for around. Realistically, it going to be only days before Timothy is decomposing on the moon’s surface.





	1. Learning Algorithims

Timothy made a lot of bad decisions. Case in point, he was sitting on a sad excuse of a cot, starring dejectedly out of a terrifyingly flimsy window at the cracked lunar landscape and the hazy glow of lava. Every step he made along the way seemed logical at the time but the more he went, on the more they piled up. So here he was alone on Elpis, with no way out and no official papers because, to put the cherry on top, he didn’t officially exist anymore. He didn’t even have his own fucking _face_ anymore. His only way out, get this, was at the mercy of his boss, who not only was he quickly growing to despise, but also demanded that he find a freaking vault, all while in personating the guy. God, how had acting school led this?

OK, even Timothy had to admit, that alone at the moment what’s a bit of a stretch; Springs had been nice enough to let him stay at her little waystation as thanks for getting her back to Concordia, but as nice as she was, he couldn’t wait to get back to civilization. If he wasn’t getting more and more terrified of Springs, he would definitely tell her to stop writing children stories. God, he sure helped that not everyone on Elpis was as mad as they made Pandorans up to be.

So that was quickly becoming to be Timothy’s days, thinking about the fact that the only people in his life were his narcissistic playboy of a boss, the strange mechanic who was more than capable of breaking his neck despite her bubbly exterior, and two digistructed assistants whose skills include killing things and shouting out lame catchphrases.

The last thing in the known universe he wanted to do was get up and fight Kraggons or bandits in low G, but it was that or think about his bad decisions until Springs finally got fed up and kicked him out.

—-

Slowly but surely, and oh how slowly it seems, Timothy was getting better at risking his life and shooting things. He Hated to admit it but the only thing that kept him alive until he got his bearings were the digi-jacks. At first he didn’t want to use them; they were an unnecessary reminder of the trouble he had gotten himself into, but when you’re just a little actor who expected to have a cushy desk job impersonating Jack while the guy got the real work done, you take any weapon you have, especially ones that auto aim. Timothy didn’t know what function exactly they were meant to fulfill; obviously they weren’t complete, not with the stupid handful of things they shouted and the fact that they were obviously holograms, but if they were to function as bodyguards, why the hell with the guy need them to look exactly like himself? Maybe Timothy wanted to know when he first received them before heading up to Helios, but after meeting Jack and seeing his disturbingly distracted and _interested_ face, Timothy tried very hard not to think about it.

 The digi-jacks’ existence was just plain stupid. And yet, and this was how he knew the moon getting to him, the inevitable shout of “And the world just got twenty-five percent more handsome” was beginning to fill him with a sense of relief. He really, really hated his life.

——

“So, handsome,”

Timothy grimaced at Jack’s voice, more than grateful that the communication was audio only.

“ since this whole freaking jamming system fiasco has taken a lot longer than expected, and you’re so kindly field testing the digi-jacks for me-“

“They haven’t been field tested!”

“Relaaax, kiddo, I was, like, ninety two percent certain they weren’t going to kill you. Gotta protect my investment, after all.” Timothy can practically hear the wink. “I’m gonna send down some updates, since I’m just sitting in this broom closet anyway.”

“And, what, are you ninety eight percent certain your updates aren’t going to kill me either?”

“Calm your tits; it’s just some learning algorithm I already had mostly written. It should help them be more combat effective. Just don’t be a dick to them and it should be fine.”

As much is Timothy disliked Jack, he had to admit there were the strange moments where he seemed uncharacteristically nice, such as sending him down to Elpis instead of Jack. Of course, Timothy could often file those moments away as being beneficial to the mission, and he often did, but it still was kind of nice. Timothy guessed that you had to take nice wherever you got it. After all, where else are you gonna find it when your own mom laughs of the news of your death.

“Oh, by the way, you’re going to have fend for yourself while they update; can’t use ‘em while the codes being changed. Ciao!”

Timothy cursed, looking down at the digi-Jack controller. A new progress bar began to blink. Right when he was in the middle of a bandit camp.

——

Somehow, it’s a relief to go back to fighting Kraggons. Kraggons, those...those he can handle. If you had related the incident to Timothy before his misadventures on the moon, he would’ve thought that killing dead lift, bandit or no, would have been the worst part of the whole incident. As he sitting there taking a breather between waves of Kraggons, his hands still trembling, it’s the freaking jump pads that refuse to let the adrenaline leave his system. Past him would’ve probably been appalled, but past him never would’ve seen the lack of humanity in the scavs eyes, wouldn’t be able to comprehend how little life was worth here. It almost didn’t feel like killing humans; he can hardly feel bad about it when they would’ve just us easily killed a Child.

So yeah he’s terrified, in over his head, and while the dangers he’s been facing have always been real, this is the first time he starting to realize that he’s not going to make it to Concordia. Killing dead lift was a fluke. He knows Jack had sent out the call to many other vault hunters. And if the attack on Helios hadn’t been so sudden, and if he hadn’t already been on the way, there would’ve been no one to pull Jack’s ass out of the fire. Literally anyone else would’ve been better than Timothy; he more than willingly admits that. It’s going to take a vault hunter to get this job done.

Timothy has never felt smaller before in his whole life and that’s saying something. While Timothy has never been a short man, his exact height matching Jack’s was one of the things that got him the doppelgänger gig, he’s has always been easily forgotten, out on the fringes, quiet and shy and unremarkable. It’s one of the reasons he liked acting; sometimes it was good to just be someone else. And look where that got him.

Tim looked up as the trembling subsided, surprised to see that the expendable assets execution file was still up and running, the holograms flickering slightly as they always did. What was unusual though was the fact that they were looking at him. While true Timothy had only been using the tech for a few days now, he had been summoning them as soon as the program recharged; the minute they flipped off it was painfully obvious to him how much of a sitting duck he was. Before, when he had left them idling while looking for ammo, they had just stood there practically frozen eyes stare blankly ahead when there was no enemies within range. Now though while their posture was still rather stiff, they were definitely focused on him, one going so far as to tilt his head to the side.

“It’s, uh, a good thing we made it through.”

And then timothy realized he was talking to holograms. Really hadn’t thought he was quite that lonely, but he had been feeling alone since way before this moon fiasco.

The digi-jacks looked at each other, _looked at each other_ , before saying practically in one voice “From one Jack to another, well done.” The delivery was flat and robotic much like their other catch phrases, but this was one of the incredibly embarrassing phrases Timothy had come up with in battle, while the only people who could witness his hopeless fumbling would be dead shortly. He gawked at them for a moment before the program ran out.

——

Timothy didn’t know what he expected from the digi-jack learning protocol. After the mad dash back out of Deadlift’s bandit camp, he had forgotten about the upgrade, didn’t even realize it was done installing until after he instinctively summoned them a couple of times. Now, though, he paid attention to them during combat rather than just letting them do their thing. He caught them listening when he was trying out his Jack persona. He saw them pay attention to him when he slipped up a bit in combat. Apart from The time they watch him freak out, the signs of them learning were very subtle. He used to dismiss them quickly after combat, just in case he ran into an unexpected nest of creatures, but now he begin to wonder what they would pick up if he kept them running.

Concordia was smaller and grungier than what Timothy was hoping for. He had gotten there at a decent time, but between that idiot claptrap unit and the physical examination, he figured it was late enough that he could reasonably Buy room with his hard won loot. The food was unappealing, some strange mystery meat that he really didn’t want to think about where it came from, but at least it was fresh and he need didn’t have to mix it with water.

Timothy hoped that Concordia would feel like a safe place, but he was beginning to see what Jack was talking about when he called the place run by bandits. The people in this town didn’t look that much different than the hordes of assholes that had willingly tried to gun him down. Taking his Kabab, Timothy walked one of the back alleys that had a pleasant view of the landscape. He felt kind of stupid, but he turned on the digi-jacks, telling himself that it was to increase the things they were learning from and not at all because he felt unsafe. He had to turn down their violence setting, which would have the added bonus of extending their runtime, and if he still felt eyes boring into him as he ate, at least they were stares he was getting familiar with.

—-

He wondered if the holograms could take any form. Having two gorgeous Moxxi angels materialize to save the Day sounded a-ok with him. But he’d probably had to ask Jack to change them, and if the sheer humiliation wasn’t stopping him, the fact that Moxxi was Jack’s ex might. Or maybe it was the fact that having a Moxxi he couldn’t touch around all the time would drive him up the wall. Knowing his luck, they would still probably sound like Jack.

——

Timothy was grimy and gritty and smelling faintly of bile by the time he got back to Concordia, the terrifying high satellites finally destroyed. He...he had killed so many people. Not like the planet wouldn’t be better without Red or Belly, but all he wanted to do was wash off the grime, sleep for a thousand years, and wake up from this nightmare. So naturally Jack fast traveled in as soon as timothy reached Concordia’s Center Square.

It seemed like it was all strictly business, much To Timothy’s relief, until, at least, they were going to find that stupid CU5TM-TP unit.

“So, how are my little digi-Jack’s doing? Are they getting more effective?”  Normally, Timothy would have chalked this up to more business, but there’s something in jacks eyes, something that is sizing him up and analyzing his response. “ Uh, yeah they really are getting more effective. Don’t know how many times they pulled me out of the fire. They started digistructing my weapons? Did not know they could do that.”

Jack’s eyes are still searching, and Timothy wonders with the shock of horror if he’s going to take them away. Because he’d be a sitting duck if Jack did. That’s the only reason. Right? “Part of the program has basic gun schematics, and their scanning capabilities are increased, so they can effectively replicate any gun they come across.  Not to mention, all the schematics get forwarded to me as a nice bonus.”

“That’s...cool.”

“The thing with a smart AI, though, is that they start developing in ways nobody can expect. Standard procedure is to forbid them from changing their own code outside of certain parameters so we don’t get, like, a rogue AI set on world domination.”

“Huh.”

 “Most AI have request system so programmers can see how they’re developing, accept and deny changes, yada yada, but those guys,” Jack pointed to the digi-Jack controller. “Don’t know they can request code. Oh, it’s there, but they need a reason to go digging for it.”

“Why would you even hide it from them?”

“‘Cause no one's ever done it?” The ‘duh’ is tangible. “And I wanted to know how they think. I was gonna debug them myself after you took care of the initial calibration, but, eh, they turned out useful ahead of schedule.”

Timothy sat there, thinking through the implications and coming up empty. “Why are you telling me this? Do you...need me to perform some tests, boss?”

Jack stopped, abruptly serious. Timothy gulped. “Three hours ago I received a request for a code change. Normally it’s for correcting inefficiencies some numbnut left in their code. But this request was repeated an hour and a half later. Which is a thing most AIs only do when they have a buttload more sentience than these guys should have.”

“What-what did they ask for?” Timothy’s heart hammered in his throat.

“Tangibility.” Jack’s eyes bored into him. “And as soon as we get this information from the Meriff, you’re going to tell me exactly what the _hell_ happened!”


	2. Chapter 2

Timothy is pretty sure he’s going to sick. The Meriff was an asshole, sure, but he was a _person._ A person who is now very much not alive. And though his body is no longer in the office, the _smell_ sure is. It was a smell he was sort of getting used to, but now? Now it was going to haunt his dreams. 

“Hold up a second before you run off to Springs.” There’s still an odd light in Jack’s eyes, still something dangerous bleeding into his voice. Timothy knows Jack did what he had to, but he’d rather be shot out of a moon cannon fifty times than be anywhere near Concordia. “Still want that update on the digital-jacks.” His tone flippant and Timothy knows it’s one of the least important things on Jack’s plate right now, but, well, the boss is the boss. 

“Well, three...um I guess four hours now-“

“No, dum dum, from the first time you noticed the protocol working.”

“Um...it was the day before I first got to Concordia…” Timothy quickly accounted how he was, ahem, sick, from the jump pads, how they started copying him, the things he saw them observing. He felt kinda stupid, stating what must be the obvious, as Jack barely paid attention to him. 

“So what changed when you took out Red Belly?”

Timothy froze. He knew this part was coming, but he still felt like a freaking amateur. “Got caught in a bad spot with expendable assets still in cooldown. I...barely managed to trigger it and get to a healing hypo before I bled out.”

Timothy could feel Jack’s eyes on him. “I’m going to need you to be a little more specific, pumpkin.”

“Um…?”

Jack sighed explosively. “You were injured, close to bleeding out. You summoned the digi-jacks. What. Did. they. _Do?_ ” 

Timothy closed his eyes, thinking back. “They started firing. One of them looked back-“ 

“Right or left?”

“Um...left. Left looked for me, found me on the ground. I think...I think he might have been surprised? He started pushing the enemies forward while the right one...he found the hypo I ended up using. Fired with one hand and tried to pick it up with the other. I managed to crawl to it while Right covered me. He looked, surprised...or maybe afraid...when he couldn’t pick up the hypo. He didn’t move forward until I got up and started shooting.”

“And the next time?” Timothy opened his eyes, started out of his recollection, all of Jack’s attention on him now.

Timothy colored. “Uh, I accidentally looked down when trying to disable the satellite relays. Might have got vertigo and almost fell. That, uh, that might be it? I was trying not to throw up.” Or, rather, he was puking up his guts while the digi-jacks moped up the last two enemies. 

Jack sighed. “I was _going_ to leave that until we got that vault open, but I guess I’m going to need to soup up your freaking babysitters if we’re going to have a chance in hell of taking over Helios.”

“How...how long is that going to take?” Please, _please_ let him be somewhere safe this time. 

“Not too much longer if I don’t have any more _interruptions._ I dug out the rough draft and got cracking when I got the request.”

“Rough-rough draft? Why would you….?”

Jack shot him a look that had a lot more heat in it. “Do you really want me to spell it out, _handsome_? Or do you want me to tell you about the other, _fun_ protocols I have in storage?”

“Imgonnagoseespringsnow,” Timothy bolted from the room, Jack’s rough laugh filling his ears. 

——

So, maybe in hindsight doing staying in Concordia and actually resting before going on the hunt for pickle would have been a smart idea, but Timothy much preferred finding an abandoned room with a lock in the wilds of Elpis and setting up camp. He managed an unsatisfying scrub down with some water and a washcloth and a nap before Jacked pinged him with the start of the update, warning it would take longer than the last and not to have “too much fun.”

Asshole.

He took the opportunity to get a nice rest in, even if it was on a thin sleeping bag on a metal floor. 

Even though jack had told him a lot of the basics of the learning program, in reality Timothy had absolutely no idea about programming and AI. Jack had implied that that they would have wants and wishes, but would that be predetermined by a previous code or was it just a crazy programmer keeping up the illusion of free thought when they had nothing of the sort? The digi-jacks hadn’t really talked before; the most he had witnessed was them copying things he had said, and pretty much only the things he said while pretending to be jack. Would they eventually be capable of having a conversation? Jack had, after all, told him to be nice to them. And a real question: were they one entity or two?

Timothy almost, _almost,_ didn’t want to press the button. Jack’s implications ringing in his head, disgusted that these really useful programs (program?) had also been designed with _that_ in mind. 

With a gulp, he turned down their violence level and pushed the button. 

Immediately, Timothy could see the differences. They weren’t much for a casual observer, but these were the guys who saved his ass again and again. While they were still that soothing mint green, they looked incredibly more solid. They still flickered a bit, but they never completely faded out of sight, instead going from opaque to their original transparency. They looked around after they were summoned, and now that Timothy was really looking, could see the look of curiosity on their faces. Rather than each looking around the room, they each quickly scanned half of it before turning their attention to Timothy. 

“Jack said that you asked for...this…” he always felt a bit stupid talking to them. Not, of course, when he thanked them for a job well done or commiserating with them, but afterward he felt like the loneliest guy on Elpis. This, though…it was different somehow, knowing he could reach out and touch them. He had bumped into their cloud of buzzing electricity before their update, but maybe only once after; instead, they always teleported away when contact looked plausible. 

“Maybe this body double program wasn’t so crazy.” They said as one, still sounding flat and a bit tinny, but the right one shifted slightly and the left one made a frustrated frown afterward. 

Huh. “Are you...are you one person or...maybe two?”

Left frowned even harder this time, while Right scratched his nose, a nervous habit Timothy had failed to break. “Too...complicated of a question?” The twin holograms looked at him for just long enough for him to feel like a massive idiot, before nodding as one. Timothy face broke out into a huge grin. “Okay! This I can work with!” The holograms both broke into smiles, though these looked entirely too manic. God, he hoped he didn’t look like that. “Are you one person?”

They shook their head.

Timothy’s excitement grew. “Are you two people?”

And here is where things got interesting. Right nodded, while left shook his head. They looked at each other in apparent dissatisfaction.

“I...uh...don’t know enough about all this to even guess what that means.” Timothy admitted and both flickering sets of shoulders slumped. “I guess I’ll have to ask Jack about it.”

The digi-Jack’s shared a look. Left pointed at Timothy while Right almost petulantly said “Jack.”

This was too freaking cool. “I, uh, go by Jack, but, um...Jack isn’t really my name? I was...I was somebody else before I looked like him.” 

The two holograms in front Of him looked like their entire world had been thrown upside down.

“My real name’s Timothy.” He said quietly. Even though he still couldn’t help but think of himself by that name, he couldn’t remember the last time he heard it.

The digi-Jack’s looked at each other for a long time, faces twitching through emotions so fast, it was amazingly clear _they were having a conversation_. 

The left hologram stepped forward, slowly reaching out and poking him a couple of inches below his collar bone. “Timothy.” The word was a static-ky as its touch. Timothy could feel it though his clothes. It was solid, but if a thunderstorm was made solid. 

“Yeah…” Timothy murmured, knowing he was watching something new unfold before him. 

“Timothy.” Right repeated, a perfect replica to Left’s. 

They both nodded in unison. Their twin grins spread wildly across their faces. “Let’s go kill some bad guys!”

——-

When the digi-jacks asked for real bodies, it didn’t really occur to Timothy how useful it could be. Sure, they fumbled quite a bit in the beginning, but he had to admit, he was amazed how fast they adapted. They watched him more closely during combat, Right taking point, often tossing back ammo or hypos or oxygen, Left sticking determinedly by his side. They tore through the bandits of tritons flats, grabbing the Stingray schematics without a scratch on him. But those guys had nothing on the camp in Outlands Canyon. 

Timothy had forked out the cash for a really nice shield, and was infinitely grateful as the deadly elemental rounds stayed far away from his skin. Of course, that was when there were only one or two bandits with the special rounds. Maybe he would have been okay if he shot that electric guy, but he hadn’t realized how low his shield was.

It took a short spray of bullets to pop his shield. 

It took one single straggler to pop his Oz kit. 

It took a moment, stunned and gasping like a fish, for the corrosive bullet to be lined up and fired. 

He couldn’t think for the pain, bright and burning and tearing at his cheeks, his lips, his _eyes_. He couldn’t scream for the lack of oxygen. He couldn’t orient as his feet left the ground. Couldn’t understand what it meant when the gunshots faded as he drifted away. 

—-

Timothy came to in a bubble of oxygen, sheltered slightly in the ruins of what might have been a house. His face hurts, but more like he’d been slapped rather than anything permanently disfiguring. A digi-jack is staring down at him, eyes wild and desperate. An electric hand is splayed over his chest; he can feel the energy crackle through his sweater as he breathed. They stay like that for a moment, Timothy sucking in sweet, sweet oxygen, and the hologram just watching him. 

Finally, the digi-jack moved, taking up a hypo and injecting it into his arm. It’s not something you can do gently, but Timothy appreciates the kind way his arm is being held, how the warmth of the hypo seeps into his chest and soothes his aching face. 

“Looks like somebody needs a hero,” the typical fake robotic bravado is gone, replaced with a quieter tone.

“Got a pair of ‘em right here,” Timothy mumbled tiredly, absently patting the electric hand, which had found its way back to his chest. He smiled at the way it felt like sparks danced around his fingers. He let his eyes slide closed, just for a moment.

——

When Timothy next opened his eyes, he was in a new location. It was dark, so it must be in room...turning on a flashlight, he could see his assumptions were correct. His bag was in one corner and he was laid out on his bedroll. None of which was abnormal, except for the fact that the last thing he remembered was being shot in the freaking face!

Which felt surprisingly normal, as he ran a panicked hand over it. 

And then he remembered waking up briefly, and electric eyes and crackling hands and warm hypos. Fuck. He guessed that his weird ass boss was right about needing babysitters. If he had any more doubts, old boxes and empty ammo crates were piled in front of the door. It looked like he wasn’t going to get out without help. 

Timothy stretched, feeling the bone deep weariness of taking too many hypos on an empty stomach. He was beginning to get used to that. He checked the digi-jack controller, wanting to check the cooldown status (though he honestly suspected he had been out for hours) and found their violence setting turned three quarters of the way down; low enough to increase run time, but still enough to be effective if a lone enemy got too close. Huh. 

He flicked the violence meter all the way down. If they could change the setting on their own…Timothy probably should waaay more worried about it than he actually was. 

Timothy flipped on the digi-jacks, and, he had to admit, he was expecting them to stand like silent sentinels, maybe canvassing the room but still waiting for direct orders. And, sure, maybe Right checked out the room, but Left practically dove at Timothy, eyes clinically panning up and down his body. _Scanning_ him, Timothy realized. Left reached up, laying a large hand across Timothy's chest, electric eyes focused on the point of contact. That was...yeah, a _lot_ more awkward when he wasn’t high off of oxygen and lack of pain. It must have been Left that had taken care of him. Was he…feeling for a heartbeat? Watching him breathe? There was a definitive furrow in his brow as he gazed down at Timothy’s chest. Right came over, trying to peak over Left’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, guys. I’m fine.” Twin eyes snapped to his face, and wasn’t _that_ a lot of attention to be directed at one guy all at once. “I-“ and then his stomach released a massive gurgle. Right. Hypo-binge munchies. 

The holograms flinched back at the sound, looking at his stomach like it might rupture at any moment. Right hazarded a tentative poke at his stomach. Timothy couldn’t help it; it burst into a fit of giggles. “Sorry….sorry! I’m just hungry! Need to replace the fuel the hypos used.” He made to get up but Left pushed him back down. “My food’s in my bag. I have to get it so I can eat.”

Right immediately walked over to his bag, crouching down and carefully pulling out items one by one, thoroughly examining each item with wide eyed curiosity. 

“I guess I need to start summoning you guys when I set up camp.” Left tilted his head at him. “You’re...learning right? It can’t be good if all you know is fighting and saving my ass.” Left looked thoughtful, but Right nodded vigorously, eyes glued to one of Timothy’s spare socks. “Not like I do much here but eat, fix my clothes, and sleep…” but if the way Right is turning around a bar of soap like it’s made of gold  is any indication, they’d be interested in just about anything. 

“That kill was sponsored by Hyperion!” Right crowed, rummaging around again in Timothy’s bag. Sure, it didn’t make sense, but it was the most cheerful he’d ever heard from them. 


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Timothy rolls up to the marked location, he’s dragging some serious ass. He’s tired, sweaty, grimy, and covered in far, far too much gore carried through the low atmosphere. He’s getting better at headshots, but he’s not sure if it’s worth the muck all over his clothes. And hell, if this Pickle kid, a boy who is literally _half his size,_ doesn’t act like he couldn’t run through the canyon without a scratch on him. Hell, the kid lives not five minutes from a huge pack of bandits. The kid could probably destroy him in an instant, and, honestly, Timothy isn't even really surprised anymore. He barely makes it through the conversation with Pickle, Right holding him steady by the shoulder about halfway into the conversation. 

Timothy half lists to the elevator down to the spur. He hopes there’s a bench in there. A little sit down sounded so, so good.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Pickle’s outburst startles Timothy so much he nearly falls, both of the digi-jacks reaching out to catch him. “You go down like that and I’ll never get into The Drakensburg!” Timothy snorted. Fucking Elpis, where even the kids care more about the loot than they do about you.  “I’ve got a shower and a cot downstairs fer ya to use. Here, let me show ya!” Pickle reaches up to grab timothy’s wrist. Left’s hand shoots out and crushes Pickle’s wrist so hard the boy squeaks, only inches from Timothy’s wrist. Not his wrist, Timothy sees with slowly widening eyes. The Digi-Jack controller. 

Timothy glares at the kid, but Pickle is just staring up in awe at the holograms. “Cor! You’ve got some great bodyguards! They for sale? Could use a pair like them up here!” 

“Not in a million years!” Timothy snarled, yanking his hand as far back from Pickle as he could manage with the Digi Jacks still behind him. 

“Fair enough, fair enough.” Pickle said consolingly, rubbing his returned wrist. He sighed at Timothy’s glare. “Look, I was gonna give ‘em back! Maybe. Just wanted to see how they worked!” Pickle eyed Left. “Looks like that one doesn't like me much, anyway.”  

“Yeah, well he’s not the only one.”

“Lighten up! Would ‘ave been bloomin’ rude of me not to try and nick somethin’.” Seriously, the sooner Timothy could get off this moon the better. “So, in the interest of not gettin’ zapped, ‘ow about I give ya my word I won’t nick yer stuff if you answer my questions about the green guys?”

Timothy’s options and energy were quickly running out. “Fine.” he grumbled. “But I’m leaving then on, just in case.” 

\----

Seriously, getting naked in front of the kid and the two holograms was one of the weirdest experiences of his life. And that included hopping into the shower for the first time after the reconstructive surgery and realizing _that was not his dick_. 

The kid was sitting on the spare cot, swinging his legs, watching Timothy and firing off questions without an ounce of shame. Right was digging around the pile of clothes Timothy set aside, throwing out a triumphant catch phrase when he found the soap. Left was dividing his attention between glaring at Pickle and attentively watching Timothy undress. God, Timothy didn’t want to admit to the way the attention made his skin burn, but what was he going to do? Ask Left to turn around? Like that wouldn’t label him as a perv. Timothy desperately sent a curse Jack’s way.

“So if they’re AIs, wot you doin’ goin’ to The Drakensburg for?”

“We need a military AI. I don’t really understand the gist of it-”

“I’m gettin’ that, mate!” Pickle shot back cheerily.

Timothy ground his teeth. “But these guys are spec'd in protection or combat or something. They were written by my boss as a little pet project.” Timothy had to suppress a shiver. “So I don’t think they have any standard packages.”

“So you’re doing some final testin’ for your boss or somethin’?”

Timothy managed to struggle out of his socks and finally shield himself in the admittedly tiny shower. “Honestly, I think _I’m_ doing most of the testing. Their learning program thingy was only installed a few weeks ago.”

“Just a few weeks?” Pickle whistled. “That Jack fellow sure can write a program. Guess that explains the whole language thing”.

Timothy turned on the surprisingly sturdy tap.  Daaaam, but he can almost forgive the kid for trying to steal his Digi-Jacks; the hot water was downright heavenly. “Not sure what the goal is, but I’m pretty sure Jack had a lot of things he was going to add to their code. Gotta badger him about a longer run time.”

“Why’d they look like you, though? You ‘is favorite?” Pickle asked salaciously.

Timothy squawked, turning bright red and trying hard not to pay any attention to the twin stares boring into him or Pickle’s fit of giggles. “No! Nope, that is sooo not it!” Timothy grabbed angrily at the bar of soap. “For the record,” Which, honestly, he probably shouldn’t even be telling the kid this. “It’s more like we look like him, than them looking like me.” 

Pickle laughs harder. “Elpis attracts aaaaaall sorts, mate and that’s pretty weird even for around ‘ere. I guess not many people got cash to splash for that sort of thing, though. ‘E offer to a way to earn a littl’ extra cash yet?”

Waaay too many offhand comments spring to mind. “Holy shit, kid, how old even are you?” Timothy shrieks, flailing his arms so hard he nearly loses the soap. 

Which caused Right to approach.

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m fine! I’m not falling! You don’t have to...get so close now…” Right’s not even looking at Timothy. He’s watching the soap lather up in the water and trail suds down the drain. Timothy bangs his head against the wall. “Seriously, what is with you and soap?” 

“Don’t be shy on my account,“ Pickle laughs uproariously. “Ha...but too bad I’ve got other things to do. Also to’ally can’t ‘ear anything upstairs, in case you were curious.” 

Timothy spared a glare at Pickle’s retreating back, still shaking with laughter. Which apparently what Right was waiting for, as he grabbed the soap out of Timothy’s hand. 

“And this is why we can’t have anything nice.” Timothy mumbled dejectedly, watching Right play with the soap.

——

Somehow things sort themselves out. He sets Right to scrubbing at his filthy clothes, which apparently the hologram finds endlessly entertaining, happily throwing out catchphrases and showing his twin the drastic change in color and the shrinking of the bar of soap. Timothy’s exhausted, barely managing to keep himself awake with some personal grooming, not entirely convinced that Right isn’t going to magically fuck up and turn his remaining clothes into a smoldering pile. 

Left watches him, and it’s interesting, how different the two of them are. 

Right moves around a lot more; if there’s some task that includes walking, Right happily goes off exploring. He likes to look at the landscape, Timothy often catching him watching the lava flow, or the laser fire at the moon, or up at the mountains with apparent awe. Since the last update, he’s started picking up random things, the occasional rock, random junk from bandit camps, and watching the blatant curiosity is incredibly neat. 

Left, though, rarely shouts out catch phrases, and while he does often look around, Left is clearly scouting for danger while his twin is distracted. He holds himself stiffer than Right, and by just a cursory glance, it looked like Left is significant more underdeveloped than his twin. Timothy knew that couldn’t be further from the truth; Left’s source of fascination was Timothy’s behavior, either conducting a study of humans, using him as a source of imitation, or just trying to study Timothy himself. Left was more interested in watching Timothy eat, rather than Right’s fascination of the process of rehydrating the MREs and kept careful watch of the strange biological twitches, completely fascinated with growling stomachs and hiccups and (apparently) blushes. Timothy might have found this a little creepy, but the attention wasn’t completely clinical. The curiosity, though intense, was almost as wide eyed and enthusiastic as Right’s, it’s just Left happened to be more...introverted? Could an AI even be considered to be introverted? He couldn’t really chastise Left; Timothy still couldn’t forget those terrified eyes as the Left desperately tried to save his life.

Timothy yawned, seeing his clothes were as clean as they were probably ever going to be. “Okay, fellas, I’m going to let you rest while I hang up these clothes.”

Left frowned at him, not so surreptitiously glancing up, Pickle’s conversation faintly audible from between the scrap roof. Right pouted at him from where he was crouched over the soggy piles of clothes, soap clutched protectively.

Timothy couldn’t help but smile. God, they were getting phenomenal at non-verbal communication. “I know, I know, but I want you on full charge before I go to sleep.” He yawned again. He had learned the hard way that Left wasn’t fond of phrases like ‘pass out’. “I’d sleep better knowing you’d be guarding me as long as possible.”

Left nods after a brief hesitation, Right just waiting for him to shut them down. How much of them was connected? Timothy hates shutting them down; it feels vaguely wrong when he can see the personality behind their eyes, but their cooldown is an honest concern. “See you in a few.”

\----

Timothy did end up summoning them as he pulled the thin blanket around him. Right briefly running to check on the freshly hung clothes before Left glared at him. Right scurried up the stairs, still within range, but keeping Pickle in sight. 

Left, surprising, helped tuck the blanket around Timothy, gently smoothing it around his shoulders. 

Timothy felt his face get hot, which was stupid, but he was warm and clean and horizontal and someone cared enough to tuck him in. Timothy smiled despite himself, feeling the bed dip near his feet. “G’night…” He mumbled, feeling safe and letting sleep pull him under.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time. Pacing on this one is a bit funny, but next chapter should be longer.

“So, I’ve done a littl’’ diggin,’”

“Have you?” Timothy asks testily. So maybe he’s in a foul mood. So maybe he believed that getting to The Drakensburg was going to be as easy as Pickle implied. It was going to be the last time he trusted Pickle’s estimations, that’s for damn sure.

“I didn’t realize you was famous!”

“Yeah, I dunno if you’d call him famous,” Timothy says blandly, lining up a badass bandit in his crosshairs. “Boss is some sort of high level programmer? Might control Helios, might not, I’m not really sure where he stands with the station lost to Dahl forces and him playing the hero.”

“”I’m not talking about Jack!” Timothy jerks, managing not to fire the damn sniper and ruin his stealth. “‘M talkin’ about you, the guy with the ghosts! They say you’ve got the dead fighting for ya!”

“Kid, you know they’re holograms!” Timothy growled at him, taking aim once again.

“Aw, but that don’t mean it ain’t nifty! Some people are saying yer a Siren!”

“Shit!” Timothy lost the badass again. “I’m not- Only ladies are sirens, Pickle!”

That insufferable brat cackled at him. “It’s like I said; it’s Elpis, mate. Takes aaaaall sorts. Anyway, it’s not like I ‘aven’t seen yer bait and tackle.”

 “Aaaand here I was going to ask for an update,” Jack, of course it’s fucking _Jack_ , cut in over the Echo. “Buuuut I don’t think I want to know why the kid’s seen the goods. Try to have an age limit on that, Handsome.” And it almost sounded like typical, flippant Jack, but there’s a subtle, underlying malice that Timothy is almost grateful for; good to know the boss isn’t a complete freak.

“Not ‘is fault, gov. ‘ad to give ‘im the briefin’ ‘fore ‘e passed out all crusty in me beddin’.  ‘E’s a perfect gentl’man, this one.” Pickle snorted. “Not sure ‘e’d know how to ‘andle a lady, though.”

“PICKLE!” Which, of fucking _course_ , got the bandits’ attention. Timothy cursed profusely, pulling out his SMG.

“Ya know ‘e turns sleet beet red if ya stare at ‘im too long? Bright and _blotchy_ , that one. Wouldn’t think ‘e was all freckly, either, but there ya go.”

Pickled confided in obvious delight.

“C’mon! Need a pair of heroes,”” Timothy muttered to himself, fumbling with the violence setting, barely flicking the Digi-Jacks on before the bandits were on him.    

“Nope. I did not know _that_.” Jack said slowly, obviously picturing it.

“Jack here, the real one!” Right shouts as he flickers into existence, pumping his digital shotgun and blasting the nearest bandit in feral delight.

“Guys, _shut up_! Especially if you want me to get anywhere near this stupid-” Timothy let out a spray of bullets at the bandit Left was distracting. “-Fucking-” his bullets finally connect with the scav’s head. “SHIP!”

Both lines are quiet for a moment, but Jack can’t fucking exist without having the last word. “Well, I guess I’ll just leave you to your bloodlust, Pumpkin. Shoot one in the dick for me!”

Timothy growled, kicking the recently downed bandit as the identical trio pressed their advantage.

“Yeah,” Pickle squeaked. “I’ll just pop in when you get to the pumping station, yeah?”

Seriously, what was with Timothy and attracting patronizing, deadly assholes?!

\----

“Hey?”

“Mr. Double guy?”

“Look, I know we need ta get in the ship, but you keep goin’ an’ yer gonna end up cornbread dead.”

——

Timothy blinked awake up blearily. He’s used to seeing different ceilings by now, but they’re fairly cookie cutter, abandoned Dahl structures. This, though, is made of all sorts of worn down scrap.

“Oi! Yer awake.” Pickle scuttled down the steps, carefully holding a bowl of something that’s sent had Timothy salivating.

Timothy grabbed the bowl and it smelled so good he could weep. Fuck, he doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s had real food. Timothy whined at the thick, rich broth, eagerly fishing out chunks of some sort of meat and vegetables.  

 “So…” Pickle said, sitting cross-legged on the bed across from Timothy, watching him devour the food. “I thought one of the first things they teach you vault ‘unters was ‘ow to not die.”

“‘M not a vault hunter.” Timothy manages through bites. “Just the closest guy around that Jack could trust.”

“Still, mate, they teach you anything in basic?”

Timothy snorts, scraping his spoon around the bowl. “The only training I got is the standard Hyperion gun training. You know, so the employees don’t shoot of their own kneecaps.” Timothy sighed, not quite believing he’s telling the kid this. “I was just supposed to sit in a big cushy chair, yell at employees, and get yelled at by the superiors. You know,” Timothy shrugged. “Not any of this.” He looks down at the bowl, stomach suddenly queasy. “Only reason I’m alive is because I was transporting the digi jacks.” Timothy looked down at his wrist, fondly.

A wrist that was completely bare.

“Woah, whoa, mate!” Pickle placated, seeing Timothy’s rising panic. “They’re over there on your stack of gear. ‘Ad to get it all off you when yer boys dragged you in. Not too sure ‘ow one bloke can be covered in that much muck all the time.”

Timothy looked down and jolted. How the fuck had he not noticed he was missing a shirt? Hell, was he missing-?

“Would ‘ave left you some dignity, but you ‘had a thigh shot that bled through yer pants.” Timothy flushed, letting Pickle take back to bowl. “I’ll admit, I dunno much about AI; I’m an ‘ardware type of guy, myself, but yer friends...they’re really somethin’ else. Thought the grumpy one was gonna kill me for a second there.”

“He’s...protective…” Timothy admitted, trying surreptitiously to pull the blanket back up.  

“We reached an agreement, though, like right proper gentlemen.” Pickle looked down at the bowl, turning it distractedly in his hands. “They really care about you. They looked...they looked like their whole world was gonna end if somethin’ happened to ya.” Pickle looked up at him, a haunted look in those too young eyes. “So you ‘ave to try ‘arder. Got to work extra ‘ard to go ‘ome. Don’t matter if you don’t get the job done or people call you a coward, not when you got people to go back to. S’what me mum used to say to me dad ‘fore ‘e went out minin’.”

Timothy looked down at his hands for a long time. “Elpis...Elpis will be destroyed if I fail, Pickle. I know...that Jack wants his job back. I know that no one really cares about this tiny little planet or the thousands of people that would die. It probably wouldn’t even make the news. But if I didn’t try I don’t know. It’s stupid. I’m not that heroic of a guy...but…leaving everyone? That’s…that’s too much, even for me.”

“Yer a good bloke.” Pickle sighed. “Too bad good blokes either get killed or last long enough to be bad blokes.”

“Yeah, well, Timothy Lawrence died a long time ago. Maybe I’ll have a chance.” Timothy doubted it, not with how many bandits he killed, not with how many honest to god people’s deaths he’s justified to himself.

“Well…” Pickle was silent so long Timothy wasn’t sure he was going to finish the sentence. “Me dad always used to say we get through together or we don’t get through at all.” Pickle slid off the bed and started making his way upstairs, shoulders slumped. “Then again, ‘E was a good bloke, too.”

Timothy watched the boy’s sad trudge, almost glad he didn’t have any siblings, because if this surge of emotions was anything to go by, he’d never have taken this fucking job, not in a million years. “Pickle...” Timothy swallowed, trying to wrap his head around the sudden overwhelming swell of protectiveness. “If you need my help for anything-“

“Good looks incoming!” A flickering blue head appeared from the second level, a manic grin spread on the electric face. Really, there should be no way for Timothy to know which of the holograms it was, but he’s not sure he’s met anyone besides Pickle who can match Right’s enthusiasm.

“Oh, hey!” Timothy felt a grin spread across his face. “Didn’t know you guys were out!”

“Thought Grumpy might wanna keep an eye on ya, so I’ve been flickin’ them back on.” A lot of Pickle’s good cheer returned. “Bouncy ‘ere helped me make this.” Pickle waved the empty bowl. “Never seen someone who liked chores so much!” 

“That’s right, the good guys are here.” Right agreed, smugly and Timothy couldn’t help but laugh. Pickle joined in.

“Get on some bulldoze clothes and we’ll get some seconds in ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: The Drakensburg


	5. Indefinable Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme be real; Chapter five has officially kicked my butt. I have been sick for THREE WEEKS!!! Three! I was honestly worried about my motivation for this story and where this was going, but looking back, it’s amazing how writhing in bed in pain REALLY kills your mojo. I’m still not at 100% but I’m hoping to have more frequent updates :)

Three days later, Timothy finally, _finally_ approached the Drakensburg. Seriously, if he ever heard the word ‘Methane’ he’s going to reflexively shoot someone. He’s tired, ready to get this shit over with, but somehow he’s happier than he can remember being in a long while; Pickle’s silly comments kept his spirits up and the Digi-Jack’s natural curiosity makes even this barren, scav-filled wasteland something to be marveled at.

Right found a fascination with chopping things up, often dicing some fruit Pickle hid in Timothy’s bag into tiny pieces, handing them over to Timothy one by one with a cheeky grin. He looked so happy hacking away at the fruit, like he’d be whistling or humming if he knew any tunes. Timothy’s music was lost somewhere on Helios during the mad scramble to get off the space station, but he hasn’t really missed it until now, when he actually had someone to appreciate it. Timothy wondered what his new voice would sound like singing, but the last time he tried to bust out some show tunes, the voice modulator shredded his throat and he couldn’t talk for days. Of course, that was back after his surgeries when it barely had any time to heal, but Timothy hadn’t really felt like singing since. He bet it would be nice, though; Jack’s voice is strong and rich and not at all like the reedy voice that kept him back from a worthwhile career.

The only thing bringing Timothy down is Jack’s constant need for updates and relentless frustration that Timothy can’t work miracles. He doesn’t know how many times Timothy has to bite back an angry retort, but the guy has been working on another Digi Jack request, something about power optimization and run time, and Timothy had to remind himself that this was the price of having a genius working on your tech.  He supposed he can’t blame the guy; between the length of the plan, the setbacks, and apparently being fired, Timothy’s not sure he would have done any better. Of course, Timothy was completely certain he’d have been dead by now, so, honestly, who’s to say.

\---

The Drakensburg itself was surprisingly clean, what with all bandits crawling out the woodwork. It’s practically sterile in its industrial, Dahl way, contrasting starkly with the other abandoned structures Timothy had been staying in. Timothy guessed he could understand Zarpedon keeping it tidy, but the ship must have been here for ages, if it fell before the Crackening. Okay, he was being shot at; it’s not a thing he should be worried about, but it was so ridiculously different from even Concordia, he couldn’t help but notice.

The Digi-Jacks had been distracted since the moment they’ve entered the ship, and if there hadn’t been a fight directly in front of the Drakenburg, Timothy might not have noticed how many of the enemies he had to suddenly cover. He can handle it; he’s a hell of a lot better shot, but whatever uses up their processing power resolves itself half way through the firefight.

Timothy turned to the holograms, catching his breath and…huh. Timothy was pretty sure he understood them by this point; sure they didn’t really speak so he couldn’t know _precisely_ the way they thought and yet…they were some of the most transparent people he had ever met, pun _not_ intended. But then again, Timothy had to admit, it’s not like he ever lied to them or tried to be someone else. Well. He’s not sure bad Jack impersonations really count; it’s not like he really likes them watching as he goes through the motions around strangers.

He was expecting Left to stick by his side, which the hologram does do, but he expected Right to be poking at a console or kicking a bandit or admiring the clean, shiny walls. The two of them weren’t really paying attention to their surroundings, though they do orbit Timothy as he collected loot. Instead, Left’s head is tilted to the side, looking at nothing, while Right practically bounced as he moved around the room, grinning widely at empty space and barely avoiding bodies. They do that sometimes, their attention turned inward, but normally they’re looking at each other, faces rapidly firing through multiple emotions.  This, though, is something new.

“Hey, you guys ok?”

Left snapped out of his daze, but Right didn’t appear to hear Timothy at all.

Were they getting better at communicating with each other? Left nodded and if it wasn’t for a slight hesitation, it would have beenn entirely convincing, but Timothy can’t see a reason for Left to lie…if the hologram is even capable of lying. It’s not they can tell him what’s wrong anyway. 

—-

“Excuse me,” a refined feminine voice crackled over the PA system, one that Timothy usually heard right before he was shot at. The Digi-Jacks were out, actually looking out for danger this time. Timothy hoped that he would have enough warning before the next attack. “I understand your name is…Timothy?”

Shit. Timothy guessed their coms weren’t as safe as he assumed. He figured telling Pickle his name was _technically_ a breach of contract, but, well, Pickle was a kid, one that saved his life. Never in a million years would he have believed that some kid randomly calling him Tim would brighten his day, made him feel like he wasn’t being smothered under Jack’s identity. “uh…no? I’m Jack?”

“You are a very bad liar.” The Skipper observed, unimpressed, much to Timothy’s shame.

“I, uh, don’t have much practice in?” And he was being defensive at his enemy. Great. “Look, if you’re just going to try to kill me-“

“No! I just-“ The Skipper let out a frustrated sigh. “This isn’t going how I planned.” She took a deep breath. “I know that this might be unexpected, but…I need your help. And…you’re the only one who’s ever gotten this close. Your…AI thought you might help me.”

Up until that last sentence, Timothy had been sold; there was a woman in trouble and she needed him. Maybe there was something in him that was still stupid and naive, that part that loved stories about heroes and romanticized acting as a career, but Timothy _wanted_ to help.  But that last sentence flooded his veins with fire. Timothy was stupid; he knew this. He had stumbled into a thousand bad situations and a lot of them, yes, had to do with pretty girls batting their eyelashes at the nerd and expecting him to do whatever the hell they wanted.  And a lot of those perfectly avoidable situations had Timothy thanklessly picking himself off of the floor with new bruises or a bloody nose or, in one memorable occasion, a couple of broken fingers. But that had happened to _him_ , and if it wasn’t pleasant, he could deal with it, knew he could have avoided the situation if he had just kept his head even farther down. But the Digi-Jacks were _his_ and like hell was Timothy going to let someone drag _them_ through the dirt just to get to him.

“Look, _Lady,_ I don’t know who the _fuck_ you think you are-“ But then Right was grabbing him by the arms, eyes wide as he shook his head vigorously, fingers digging his biceps so hard Timothy felt the electricity in his bones. Timothy just stared into Right’s eyes for a moment, unable to comprehend what this meant, but feeling instinctually that they’ve jumped miles ahead of their learning without him noticing yet again. Timothy felt small and tired, in a way that he’s been able to stave off lately. He knew it was selfish, but he can’t help but feel lost and untethered with his two constants changing so rapidly. 

“Please,” God, the word is quiet and pleading and desperate. Her voice was almost too much, with those electric eyes boring into him.

 “Did you really say I’d help?” Timothy murmured to Right. If they hadn’t, he couldn’t drag them into her mess, but if they had…he never wished he knew more about programing than he did at that moment.

Right nodded, a fire in his eyes burning with righteous heat. He’s not sure where they had learned that, but he can’t ignore it.

 Timothy closed his eyes; there was no going back from this. “What do you need?” He asked The Skipper.

“I need you to get me out of here. In return, I’ll make sure you get the military AI you’re here for.” Her tone was businesslike, but there was a slight quaver in her voice.   

“Okay.” Timothy just hoped they would all make it out intact. “We’ll do it.”

“Thank God,” The Skipper breathed and Timothy wished he couldn’t guess why she was so happy to leave, wished he couldn’t hear her empty voice call the Boson ‘my dear Bosey.’ “Okay. If you want that force field down, you need to go to the engine room. Let me open that door for you.”

\---

The farther they made it into the ship, the more the signs of bandits become obvious. Some of the garbage was from when the ship broke apart (and too many fucking jump pads to compensate), but it’s a strange mix between the wreckage Timothy was used to and perfectly preserved. 

It’s interesting, listening to both sides of the conversation between The Skipper and The Boson, and, really, Timothy would be wondering how that complete idiot was running the show, but he can’t help but wonder about The Skipper and how long she’s been under his thumb. Her delight in thwarting The Boson’s plans was infectious and, honestly, Timothy was glad to have an excuse to save her. 

\---

“I’m surprised how fast your goin’!” Pickle’s voice crackled over the comm while Timothy was taking ammo off corpses. Just another glamorous event in the life of a body double. “Not like I could get past the front door, but the word is that The Boson ‘as complete control over the ship.”

            Timothy snorted, pocketing a few crumpled wads of cash. “Sure. A nut job like that.”

            “Honest! ‘im and The Skipper were part of the crew ‘for it went down. The Boson was some tech wizard or somefin.”

“Seriously, kid, why do you know so much about this place? If it’s so locked up, why didn’t you find some other Dahl site?”

Pickle was quiet for a long moment. “There are a couple of unique items I need to pick up.”

Timothy’s chest hurt at the seriousness in Pickle’s voice. “What are they? If I can swing by and pick it up, I can drop them off on the way to Concordia. Shouldn’t be too much trouble.”

Timothy almost worries he’s said the wrong thing with how long the silence stretched. “It…They’ll be easier to get once you’ve dealt with The Skipper and The Boson. I was goin’ ta get them meself…but I’ll think about it.” Timothy heard Pickle’s breath stuttering over the connection. “Thanks, Tim.”

Besides his mom, Timothy’s never really had family before, but if he had a little brother…he’d hope the kid would be like Pickle. “It’s no problem, seriously, kid. You’ve literally been the most helpful person I’ve met here, “ Or ever, but that’s something that might say waaay to much about Timothy. “so I want to. And I’ve got The Skipper on my side, so, hey, that just means I’ve only got half of the problem to deal with!” Timothy said with fake Jack bravado.

“The Skipper?” Pickle yelped. “Mate, are ya sure ya know what yer doin’?”

A thousand bad scenarios flashed through his head. Timothy had to just steady himself and breathe for a moment, remember the desperation in her voice, remember the righteous fire in Right’s eyes. “Yeah. I mean,” Timothy let out a shaky laugh. “I’m just as worried as you are, but…I think this is important.”

“If you say so.” But Pickle’s tone betrays his uncertainty. “But I think we might need to keep our mince-pie eye on ‘er.”

“Maybe.” Timothy conceded. “But I think I trust her; I think she’s got more reasons than us to want The Boson dead.”     

\---

“Um…Skipper?” So maybe it wasn’t the best time for questions, but between the laser steadily firing at the moon and everything being a whole hell of a lot more convoluted than expected, no time was appropriate.

“Yes, Timothy?” She responded, this time over his com.

“It’s…Okay to call you Skipper, right?”

“That will do for now. Let me guess; you have a question now, too?”

Timothy blinked. “Um, yes? But what do you mean by ‘too’?”

The Skipper sighed, but it sounded fond. “The minute the boys realized they could communicate with me, albeit rudimentary, they’ve been asking endless questions. I’m used to questions about the upkeep of the ship, not ‘why are some rocks so tall’ or ‘why does the sky turn funny colors when the sun goes down’ or ‘why does soap make things the right color again.’”

Timothy couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds like Right.”

“Right? Ah, the more extraverted half.” Timothy blushed; he forgot that they really didn’t have separate names, just the ones he called them in his head. “If you have questions, then I have a little proposal: You ask me questions and you’ll fill in the gaps in the boys’ knowledge, within legal constraints of course.”

Timothy nodded. “Sure. But, uh, I’m not too good at keeping legal things strait.” Timothy chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Technically, Timothy Lawrence is dead and I’m hot-shot programmer Jack.” He did a couple of finger guns and felt like a tool. You know, like he normally did when impersonating Jack.

“I’ve been curious.” The Skipper admitted. “I know I asked you to help me, but…there are a few things I don’t quite understand regarding your involvement.”

“Um, ask away, I guess?”

“I understand that a lot of things must have happened before their learning protocols were engaged. I can understand why you’re helping; if we don’t do something, Elpis will be destroyed when the laser hits the core. What I don’t understand why you, someone new to combat, was sent to deal with this time sensitive problem. The boys say that you were the closest person around and yet you were expecting a desk job.”

Timothy shifted. “So you wanna know…why I’m still here? How I made it this far?”

“No. I want to know why Jack trusts you specifically, considering there are more experienced people available to do the job.”

“Well…” Timothy scratched his nose. “I guess it’s because I’m the only one free he’s got by the balls?” Timothy quickly dismissed _that_ mental image. “ I mean, uh, I’m the only one he’s got leverage over. And, uh, I was already almost there when the Lost Legion attacked.”

“You’re going to have to do better than _that_ ” The Skipper huffed irritably. “I just want to know I’m putting my faith in someone more intelligent than Captain Arsecrack.”

Timothy supposed she had a point; he hated how in the dark he felt when those doctors wiped out his existence. “I’m Jack’s doppelgänger. I’m not sure why he wanted one, but I guess any kid with enough student loans and his height would have done. So. He, uh, took over my debts and, um, deleted, I guess, who I was. My, uh, my own mother thinks I’m dead.” Timothy had to close his eyes, trying not to think of her reaction to the news. “They gave me a new face and a new voice and I spent the last…months? I’m not even sure anymore, recovering from the surgeries, and building up muscle, and learning to be him. I was supposed to spend the next few months observing him before I’d really be able to do my job, but…yep. That’s…what I got myself into. ”

The Digi-Jacks had given him some space, Right teleporting all over the long, empty hallway, but Left was looking at him. Timothy realized he really hadn’t talked about this to them at all.

“What did you look like before?” The Skipper’s voice was so gentle. Left completely stopped, eyes softer than any hologram should be capable of. Damn. Timothy had to blink tears from his eyes.

“Oh. I was, uh…twiggy; all spindly legs and no muscle. My hair was this gross sort of mousey brown and I really should have just hacked it all off, but, uh, all the cool guys had it kinda long. Um…” Timothy squeezed his eyes shut; it was like trying to see himself in a badly fogged mirror. “My eyes were blue. I was,” Timothy laughed. “a _lot_ more pale. I had, just, a ton of freckles. Never thought I’d miss them, but…I, uh…I really do.”  Timothy had to pause for a moment. He hadn’t really stopped to think of it until now. He had been so fixated on the loss of his face, the erasure of his existence, that he didn’t even realize that he was becoming comfortable in this body. He wasn’t comfortable with being Jack, by any means, but, well, Timothy enjoyed looking like the guy. He liked feeling strong and he liked the way people didn’t simply ignore him. He wasn’t sure when he became accustomed to his new face, but at some indefinable point he stopped cringing away from the good-looking guy in the mirror. He had always loved the hair; he liked the color and the thick strands and how it would actually cooperate; He just never noticed when he began to like the rest of it.

 And he nearly forgot he was talking to The Skipper. Timothy cleared his throat. “I guess the biggest change to get used to was my voice. I mean…I always hated my voice. All I really wanted to do was sing those awesome, powerful, heroic roles.” Timothy sighed, still remembering the disappointment when puberty rolled around and made him sound worse. “I tried to hit those notes and, ugh, my squeaky voice would just crack on them. It wasn’t a bad change, just…really, really weird.”  

“You were a theater kid?” The Skipper laughed delightedly.

“Oh, yeah.” Timothy laughed with her. “Went to college for acting, like that would somehow make it possible for a nerd like me to be an actor. I was _such_ a dumbass.” And somehow when he said it wasn’t as bitter as it typically sounded in his head.   

“And you just left your life behind?” The Skipper said it wistfully, but Timothy’s mood plummeted.

Because even in twenty years, if he somehow makes it to the end of his contract and finds a way to walk away, there wasn’t a single person who would cry over his miraculous return, no avenue income he could realistically pursue unless he wanted to kill people. It’s not like he had much of a life to leave. “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.”

Left watches him carefully as Timothy passed. He couldn’t look the hologram in the eyes. Somehow…somehow he didn’t really want them knowing how much of a failure he was. They must already know, though; they’ve been with him this long.

“Oh.” The Skipper started. “I…suppose so. What is your question?”

Timothy paused, scrambling to throw off his funk and look through his backlog of questions. “Well…-“

“Enemies incoming!” Right shouted from where he stood just outside of the oxygen bubble. Timothy scrambled for his sniper rifle as Right charged off ahead, nearly getting the gun strap tangled in his distraction.

 Fucking hell. Up ahead was another drop off, the two pieces of the ship barely connected with scrap and jump pads, bandits crawling over the walkways like ants.

Timothy started scanning the enemies, looking for a badass to take out, as Right distracted them with shotgun blasts. Timothy sighted on a corrosive barrel in a cluster of bandits (seriously, why did they leave these things just lying around?) and was about to pull the trigger when a tingling hand squeezed his shoulder. Timothy nearly fumbled the shot, the bullet barely clipping the barrel. The volatile container exploded anyway, coating the bandits in gobs of green acid. 

Timothy spun, and Left smiled at him, soft, gentle smile, one that was markedly different than Right’s manic grin. Left squeezed his shoulder again, before turning to take care of a scav that slipped behind Right. “That’s right,” Left growled smugly, the simulated shotgun blast hitting the bandit square in the chest. “the good guys are here.”

Timothy struggled to get the swelling of his chest under control, knowing he didn’t have time to be so pathetically ridiculous over something so simple. This was going to be a long fight.

\----

“Hey, Handsome.” Timothy nearly choked on his MREs, already pushing it from where he was trying to shovel it down. Jack sounded frazzled already with just the two words and Timothy was glad he wasn’t any closer to Concordia. “Shit, can’t get a good read on this stupid _fucking_ ship! You got any idea where this military AI is? Because, let me tell you, without that I can’t tell how long our robot army will take to bake or when the laser will hit the core and _blow us to fucking bits!_ ”

Out of his peripheral vision Timothy can see the holograms tensing, Right looking a confused, but Left looked like was getting ready to kill someone. Timothy tried to rein in his anger, unwilling to see what chaos the Digi-Jacks might get up to if Timothy exploded at his asshole of a boss. “I’m working on it!” Timothy hissed. “I have an inside source, but The Boson apparently has a lot more control over the ship than anyone anticipated. Apparently, the AI is being held past The Boson, back where The Skipper is being held hostage. First I have to-“

“Wait, wait, wait, kiddo.” The condescension is dripping from Jack’s voice. “The AI we need is being held, conveniently, right next to where the damsel in distress is held? _Kiddo_ ,” Timothy can feel the malice over the tinny comm. “Are you that _fucking_ STUPID?” Jack roars. “I don’t know what kind of fucking game you think we’re playing here, but we are all going to _die_ if you don’t get that AI ASAP.” Shit, Timothy was trembling. “If this is about getting laid, then we’ll settle _that_ when you get what we need! Forget about that pair of tits and do your _fucking_ job!”

“Oh yeah?” And Timothy was on his feet, voice ringing in the empty room. “And where exactly is that AI, huh, Jack? Do you have any idea, because I’m sure the guy’s second in command might! Sure, it might not be _right_ there, but I don’t see how much a walk across the whole ship will matter once The Boson and the bandits are dead!” Timothy panted hard, willing his hand to unclench. The Digi-Jacks were on either side of him, standing so close he can feel them crackling madly. Timothy took a deep, steadying breath. Shit, he hadn’t gotten so angry outside of battle before. “uh…Boss.” Timothy added belatedly, wincing.

And, luckily, just like that, the mood was broken. Jack laughed softly. “Sorry, pumpkin. There’s a lot of people trying to demand what I’m doing to stop all of us from exploding.” Jack sighed. “Fine. You’re the one there; you’re the one that’s talked to her. Your call. Just…had that upgrade they wanted. Was gonna tell you to take five while they updated.”

“uh,” Timothy said intelligently, drained from the conversation but a little shocked that Jack had bothered apologizing at all. “Okay. I can, uh, I can do that.” The Digi-Jacks seemed to deflate on either side of him, but Left still looked troubled.

   “Don’t worry, Handsome. With a face like this, we’re too good looking to die on a freakin’ moon.” Timothy wondered if the words were more to comfort him or Jack.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *goes to make a garbage playlist of Timothy’s favorite show tunes*  
> (on a side note: I just found the doppelgänger trailer while doing some research and holy frick was it, like, 1000% more hilarious than I expected).  
> btw, this was written over a long time and at various stages of health, so if there are any, ya know, glaring mistakes, I'm totally open to fixing them!


	6. Spaceship Modifications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edit: This is only a portion of what I wanted to write for this chapter. I kinda hastily posted it when I realized I had more content to cover than I had planned for and I sort of regret it, but I will keep this chapter up. Just note, that I may add onto this chapter, but if I do I'll add a note here and at the beginning of the next chapter.

Timothy finally was drawing closer to the engine room. Throughout most of the ship there was a hum so low that Timothy didn’t even notice it at first, but this close he can feel it in the walls. Part of him was in awe at the sheer amount of power that must go into keeping a ship like this afloat, but a large part of him was worried about the state of those insanely powerful machines, considering the rest of the ship.

He was glad to finally find a spot for a breather, and he found himself longingly eyeing the plush chairs in what must be a briefing room, if the large blue screen is anything to go by. And then he started to actually read the so-called Drakensberg crew briefing log.

 “’The Bosun wants to remind everyone that his girlfriend The Skipper is smoking hot.” Timothy grits out, appalled and wishing he was surprised.

The screen shattered, bits of screen bouncing off of Timothy’s shield, his arm flying up automatically to protect his eyes.

“Well.” The Skipper’s voice was slightly tight with surprise. “I was going to turn off the screen…”

Right snarled and it was an audible, terrifying sound. His shotgun was still raised up, viciously crackling and Timothy rapidly backed away, bumping into Left. The gun boomed loud in the small room. Their guns typically didn’t make more than a low zapping noise, similar to the laser guns, but this sounded exactly like a normal gun. Right was furious and only the real, deafening noise would do.

 Left moved, so fast he must have teleported the sort distance. One second Timothy was staring at Right’s fury and the electric spark of the shotgun, the next Left was barreling into him, shuffling Timothy bodily away from the screen and sheltering Timothy with his body from the flying shards of glass. Timothy flinched at every impossibly fast shot, trying to make himself smaller behind the electric barrier.

The silence was somehow just as deafening as the gunshots. Timothy tried to straighten, wanting to check up on Right now that the shots stopped, but…oh. Left was holding him in place, crushing Timothy protectively against his chest. It was strange, Timothy noted in the half second before the embarrassment hit home; he hadn’t felt so much of the Digi-Jack’s strange corporeal form before, typically only a hand. He could feel his hair standing on end, like he was standing too close to an electric fence, trying to see the loot inside. There was some sort of physical barrier; he could feel the electric jacket crinkle against his forehead, but he couldn’t say that it felt particularly like leather. He could feel his own identical jacket crease under Left’s near-stranglehold, Left’s distress encasing him in rapidly pulsating waves of electricity.

Left pulled back, holding Timothy out at arm’s reach, something frantic gleaming in his electric, mint eyes, worry creasing his brow as he looked Timothy over for damages.

“You ok?” Timothy croaked out.

Left nodded, relief draining the tension from his shoulders. A second later, the fury returned to Left’s eyes, and he spun, marching over to silently sparking twin. Timothy glanced down to see a shocking large amount of glass shards piled where Left was shielding him; perhaps not enough to break through his shield, but enough that it would have been terrifying.

“I know you’re trying,” The Skipper said softly, her voice floating quietly down over the PA system directly above Right “After we deal with the engine room, it’s just a matter of shutting off the force field before you can take out The Bosun.” The Skipper soothed, and Timothy’s heart warmed. Sure, Pickle seemed to like the holograms, but he couldn’t match the gentle care in The Skipper’s voice.

The moment was broken a second later when Left reached his brother, smacking him rather emphatically upside the head. There was no sound effect other than a slight zapping noise, but Timothy’s sense of the dramatic felt there should have been a resounding smack.

Right rubbed his head, shoulders hunched and looking at the floor as Left glared daggers at him, Left’s hand clutched into trembling fists at his sides, sparking so much that Timothy would have worried about the screen if it wasn’t already in a million pieces.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Timothy protested, hurrying up to them. “Stop that.” Timothy put a hand on each of their shoulders, Left’s wild energy immediately slowing. They both looked, startled, at the hand on the other’s shoulder. Timothy realized it was the first time he had voluntarily touched them. “We were all feeling like that,” Timothy blundered on, trying to fight his blush. “And, hell, if you hadn’t done it,” he said to Right. “I was probably a second from blasting that screen myself. So give your brother a break.” he said, giving Left a look. “We’re going to save The Skipper and get that AI and build an awesome robot army and save the moon!”

“I…thank you, Timothy. Thank you, boys.” Timothy doesn’t want to think about how long it’s been since someone cared about her. Because, honestly? Timothy doesn’t want to think about how much he sympathizes, how much he can relate to the emotion in her voice.

“We’ve got your back, Skip.” And, okay, maybe he feels a little bit like a dork saying it, but someone’s gotta say it and he’s the only one with a voice. 

“And I’ve got yours,” The Skipper says warmly. “And…I know your boss is worried, but I do promise you, you’re not going to need to backtrack to acquire your AI.”

“You…you know it’s not really about that, right?” The Holograms nodded in agreement.

“I…” Timothy could tell the emotions were threatening to overwhelm her. “Look, I’m trying to be helpful; I’m not asking for you to get all sappy.”

Timothy laughed. The holograms smiled, Right looking like he was a heartbeat from joining in and Left smiled widely, eyes crinkling. God, Timothy loved these guys. 

“It’s just…The AI was tampered with when The Bosun took control and, true, all the standard functions are still in operational order, but…that’s my price for helping you with the robot army. Based on the program logs, I need the AI to be reset to the same basic functions before The Bosun got his grubby little pig hands on them. I don’t expect them to take long; he added to them rather than altered the existing code. However…as it stands, I am restricted from changing the code.”

“Well...” Timothy scratched his nose. “If it won’t take too long, I guess. I don’t think Jack has much to do while we’re between locations. If his nagging is anything to go by.” Timothy finishes under his breath.

“Good.” The Skipper said, all business. Not that she hadn’t been business-like before, but there had been an edge to it, as if she were waiting for him to refuse. The Drakensburg AI must have been important to her, at least as important as the Digi-Jacks were to him. “Up ahead is the engine room. We can bring down the force-field by jettisoning the main engines. Removing them will really mess up several of the Drakensburg key systems and energy output. I'll quietly talk you through things, but The Bosun's going to throw a LOT of his men at you. Are you ready?”

Timothy nodded. “Yeah, we’re ready. Right, guys?”

“Double freakin’ trouble!” Right shouted, waving his shotgun at the ceiling.

Left nodded, a quiet, but eager determination radiating off of him.

“First, head to the engine control panel and set the ship's engines to maximum output.”

\---

Timothy was feeling confident; they had gotten through a good chunk of the ship and Timothy didn’t have a scratch on him! So, sure, there were _far_ too many jump pads for his liking (he struggled not to think about the broken lift and the effect it had on his hastily consumed meal), but he was getting used to this adventuring, rugged cowboy lifestyle. Kinda. He still wondered, briefly, in those rare moments when he’s alone right before he goes to sleep, what it says about him that the best time in his life also involves killing massive amounts of people.   

Of course, looking up and up in the engine room, lights and doodads and enemies covering the large room in a surrealist jumble, he could easily imagine what the other vault hunters might have done, the ones that Jack still grumbles about not having time to hire. It certainly isn’t gulping and praying for no more jump pads. 

The rhythm is easy at this point; Right steps out in front and takes out the short range enemies, Left provides back up for his twin and Timothy carefully picks out headshots from a safe distance until it’s all a mad close quarters fight. 

Getting to the first control panel is minimal effort, just a few enemies between him and the short walkway up to the thing and it would have been easy if it wasn’t for the enemies swarming the catwalk and almost all point of cover being vulnerable from some angle.

Left pushed Timothy down behind the wall, giving him the perfect opportunity to pick off some guys on a catwalk above the door they just used. Left’s fingers flew quickly over the buttons on the console, taking about a fraction of the time it normally takes Timothy.

“What?! What's happening down there?” The Bosun’s weedy little voice shrieks out far, far too loud of the PA.

“Nothing, dear, it's all under control!”  The Skipper shouted, and, honestly, Timothy isn’t sure if she has no acting talent or just doesn’t care; he _really_ can’t see how this harebrained plan is working. 

“Good.” The Skipper crackles over his comm. “I’m sending the boys the instructions to activate the flow regulator. When you shoot the regulator, the power stabilizer will be exposed. Once it’s open, you’ll need to destroy that as well.”

“Uh…what?”

The Skipper sighed. “Just shoot the dangerous red glowing thing until it explodes. I’ll update your ECHO with the next thing to destroy.”

A moment later, Left stepped back from the console, nodding at Timothy.

“Okay.” Timothy double checked the location on his ECHO. “You guys ready to rumble?”

Right dematerialized his shotgun, giving Timothy an enthusiastic double thumbs up before the gun fell back into his hands.

“Feel the might of Hyperion.” Left said smoothly, loading in a clip into his LMG. Strictly speaking, he didn’t _have_ to do that, but it did get the point across nicely.

“Alright. If you’ll take the lead?” He asked Right.

Right grinned and stepped out of their relative safety. “Jack here! The real one!”

Timothy dove for barricade, rushing behind Right, Left at Timothy’s heels. While the bandits were distracted by Right’s challenge, Timothy pulled up his ECHO. Shit, looked like they had to go higher.

Left eyed the ECHO for a moment, then pointed up to the catwalk he had just, thankfully, cleared of enemies. Timothy could probably make that jump. Probably. Would have been nice if the Oz kits came with some sort of jet pack, but honestly it was probably a waste of oxygen and Timothy would probably jet himself into a wall in panic.

Timothy grimaced. “Fine. Here goes nothing I guess.” Timothy slung his gun on his back, mentally preparing himself.

Left teleported to the catwalk, beckoning Timothy over. God, he really wished he could teleport. That would solve _so_ many of his problems.

Timothy went for it, trying to block out the sounds of gunfire and Right in his element. He hit the catwalk chest first, the wind knocking out of him in a sad wheeze. He scrambled for purchase, his brain shouting at him to pull himself up or die. Left effortlessly pulled Timothy up and hauled him behind a barrier. Right materialized next to them a second later, raining down bullets on the confused screaming bandits below while Timothy caught his breath.

Left caught his attention and pointed over the barricade. Timothy glanced over and, fuck, another jump?! Seriously, who did Timothy piss off in a past life? 

The scrap ramp leading up to structure’s roof was kinda convenient. Of course, it would have been more convenient if it hadn’t looked like half of it collapsed under its own weight.  Timothy took a deep breath and Left nodded, flickering away to reappear at the next location.

Right flickered out, rematerializing in the midst of the panicking bandits. “This is what happens when you cross Hyperion!” Right shouted, easily bringing down the uncoordinated mob.

Timothy took the distraction to make a dash for the ramp, praying that his momentum was enough to get him over unscathed.

In midair was perhaps not the time to realize he had vastly miscalculated.

“Timothy!”

Maybe he could avoid real damage if he cushioned his fall just right. It couldn’t be as far down as he thought it was, right? He didn’t want to know what hypos did to broken bones.

An electric hand caught his forearm, jerking him to

 a stop. Timothy looked up, heart hammering, into Left’s panicked eyes. It felt like a lifetime, just looking into Left’s eyes, processing that he wasn’t going to die or get critically wounded. A lifetime before the gunshots cut through the cocktail of adrenaline and he realized how much of a sitting duck he was hanging there.

Left sprung into motion, dragging Timothy up slowly, not having the advantage of being fully on the catwalk or having both arms to pull Timothy up by.

Timothy helped the final bit, managing to help swing himself up, but, fuck, the moment he was on something solid again, his limbs just gave out on him. Timothy tried to move, tried to get on with the fight, but all he could do was shake and feel the roiling in his stomach and listen to Right doing his job.

“Timothy? Timothy, are you ok?” The Skipper called over his com, but he couldn’t respond over the constriction of his throat.

He felt Left place a hand over his chest, gently, and…somehow…it makes things better, made something ease in his chest. “I’m-“ God, he sounded bad. “I’m fine, Skip. Just…give me a minute.”

Left placed a hand on his face, and Timothy knew that if he looked over at the hologram he’s going to see something more real than he’s prepared to deal with. So he squeezed his eyes shut and just stopped thinking, just felt for a moment: the gently flickering hand on his face, his hair standing on end, the cool metal beneath him, his breathing steadily getting slower. Anything to stop the room and his head from spinning.

Timothy finally opened his eyes and that should be the end of it, it really should; Left should take his hand away and pull Timothy to his feet and pretend like none of that strange moment ever happened. But these guys weren’t normal; they had never been burned or taught that being honest and open was a good way to get hurt. 

Instead, Left was gazing down at him, the wild, overwhelming panic gone from his eyes, but still so raw that they pinned Timothy in place. Timothy didn’t know what to do, if he should hold his hand or push it away or crack a joke to break the tension or say something, anything, to make everything better.

Left let out a sigh, eyes squeezing shut, and Timothy starts to think he’s off of the hook, but Left bends down to rest his forehead against Timothy’s. Fuck, what was he supposed to _do_ with all of these emotions?

Left pulls back a few heartbeats later and does, in fact, pull him to his feet, but even so the moment doesn’t entirely vanish and Timothy could feel eyes boring into him.

\----

All of that fuss, and the stupid flow compensator, regulator, whatever was easy to take down. At least, for their troubles it exploded nicely. The power stabilizer exploded even nicer, but then again Timothy doesn’t really want to bring up the turrets or the flood of fresh enemies or the bad attempt to parkour across the room just to get to the thing. Just know that a grenade and power stabilizer really makes up for a lot of shit.

 Timothy can hear The Bosun screaming, but their last task was in sight. Left teleported to the final console while Timothy and Right covered him, annoyingly right where he nearly broke a bone or five falling. Timothy knew that bullets couldn’t really do much to either hologram, but Timothy didn’t want to deal with a new, nice, convoluted plan if the console broke on them.

“Engine jettison sequence initialized.” The Skipper’s voice rang out serenely across the PA system.

“No, no, no, no, nooooo!” The Bosun screamed, sounding more and more crazed with each word. “Shut it off, my love! My lovely engine!”

“Oh.” She said in a monotone. “I can’t. The manual override isn’t letting me in, _dear_.”

Even the ear-shattering shriek of The Bosun wasn’t enough to ruin the moment. The engine groaned when the supports let go. The three of them watched as the engine, ponderously slow, tip over and fall into the ravine, glorious in its decent. Right pressed his face to the glass like an eager child, bouncing on his toes, watching the spectacle with unabashed glee. The crash sent shockwaves of force throughout the whole ship, sending Timothy stumbling. Just when he thought it had reached its epic conclusion, an enormous bout of flame burst out of the end and Timothy rushed closer to the window, not quite believing his eyes.

The engine lit itself up like a rocket, launching itself magnificently up into the air to the sound of Right’s wild laughter.

“Oh,” Timothy breathed. “This is Wagner level of _awesome_!”

“Mmm,” The Skipper agreed. “I think I know exactly what you mean.”

Ride of the Valkyries began playing over his comm and Timothy grinned hugely, watching as the engine gathered momentum.    

Which was when it decided to veer off course and smash into the ravine with an explosion that dreams were made of. Right whooped with delight, throwing an arm around Timothy’s shoulders, pointing at the explosion and gesticulation wildly, even if the only coming out of his mouth were laugher and inarticulate screaming. It was a moment; they were alive and had, maybe, pulled off the impossible, and they were a _team_. It was perfect and crystalline in a way very few of Timothy’s memories were, m

ade all the more so when Left came up to his other side and gently bumped their shoulders together.

“Switching to crappy emergency power.” The Skipper said tonelessly.

“I'll... I'll pull your brain out of your ears and dance on your skull, with shoes made of acid!” The Bosun shrieked, and, honestly, Timothy thought the guy couldn’t get any more deranged.

“And HOW are you going to put those shoes on?” The Skipper asked disgustedly.  “Honestly, you just blurt out threats without thinking.”

“Cor!” Pickle shouted in his com. “I could see that from ‘ere! That was _epic_! I mean, I’m sure I could ‘ave used bits an’ bobs o’ some ‘o that, but y

a only live once, right?”

“Happy to provide!” Timothy laughed. “I’ll be sure to save the next engine for you!”

“Thanks, Tim!”

“That was perfect, boys!” The Skipper laughed. “I mean, strictly speaking, you didn't _actually_ need to do that last bit, but I knew it would annoy him, so I thought... why not?”

“That was, honestly, one of the _coolest_ things I’ve ever done, so, hey, if you got more explosive things that’ll piss him off, we’re your guys!”

“We’re not that far off from our goal, so I’m afraid I only have one task left for you to take care of.” Dark glee colored The Skipper’s voice and for once Timothy was glad they were a ship apart.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, other than a tinsy bit in chapter 4 & 5, I have NEVER written action before. I mean, I’ve read a lot of things about writing action and payed attention in other works, but I hope I did alright? I just loved everything about the engine room fight and wanted to do it justice.


	7. A Very Intelligent Tool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. This chapter has been a doozy. My dad is in the hospital with a stroke and…I’m going to be honest, I’ve been having a hard time not making this angsty as fuck. I have written and re-written this chapter about five different times, only to scrap it all, write three different stories, and wait for things to get better. I'm feeling pretty good now, but still not quite in a mood to polish the thing to a fine point. Of course, that laziness might be due to the whiskey.

Timothy had to admit, while the ship looked like what he could guess a normal sized military vessel might be, running from one end of the ship to the other really put that into perspective. It’s not pleasant, by any means, but he gets the job done despite the jump pads and dingy corridors and bandits he can _smell_.             

  “He’s just up ahead.” The Skipper said, just as Timothy was approaching an _actual_ elevator. There was no remorse in her voice and any protest dies on Timothy’s tongue.

“Finally made it to the boss?” Jack’s voice crackled over the comm. “Shit!” Jack growled. “Still can’t fucking hack this thing into submission.” Timothy can hear Jack bang irritably at his keyboard. “Kill the guy, get the military AI, and then head to Triton Flats to get to the Titan Robot Production Plant.”

The Skipper cleared her throat. “Uh, right.” Timothy nearly forgot. “We’ll need to head to Concordia first. The AI needs some basic adjustments before it can be used, according to The Skipper.” Okay, so Timothy wasn’t actually certain that was true, but he could reliably plead innocent.

“What sort of changes?” Jack asked suspiciously.

“Just removing whatever garbage The Bosun did to it. She said there’s a log, so the job should be relatively quick.”

“Did she say she was coming with you?” And from what Timothy knows of his boss, the statement should be salacious, but the guy just sounds suspicious.

“That was the plan, yes.” The Skipper chimed in. “However, if it makes you at all comfortable, Timothy shall transport the AI.”

“And how do we know you’re not gonna smash the AI or wipe the drive?”

“And put my own life at risk? It becomes less of an issue of how dangerous you or Timothy is, than it is of how catastrophic that laser will be when it hits the core. I’m in this for my own survival as well, Jack, and I find there’s no better incentive than certain doom. ”

“So our chum The Bosun isn’t waiting down there waiting to shoot the errand boy?”

“Oh, he is. But that would have happened with or without my help. I’m in it for the long haul, and The Bosun has only ever played short games.”

Jack seems to consider for a moment. “Well, do me a favor and knock ‘em dead, pumpkin.”

\---

“I’m just past here.” The Skipper said, and honestly, Timothy’s kinda surprised that she’s not more excited than she is. He knows she’s a bit reserved, but still.

The door whirred open and…oh. It takes him a moment for him to piece it together.

Timothy had, if he was forced to admit to, imagined this moment, spent time thinking about what The Skipper looked like. He’s pictured her, short and slim, with blond hair and a thin, haughty face, a peaked military cap perched distinguishably on her head. He’s pictured her at the console, going through some last minute changes before he can download the AI, turning to look at them, looking business-like and strong and like she could shut him up with a well-placed glare.

  But the room is empty of human life, just rows upon rows of mainframes and power banks and things Jack would know the names of. Timothy guessed that he probably should have suspected something was up; how else could the paraplegic creep keep a woman like The Skipper captive before putting together his army of bandits?

“You…you’re the AI?” Timothy asked with baited breath, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for a thin blond woman to pop out from behind the mainframe and say “I got you, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I should have told you sooner, I know, Timothy, but…you don’t know what it’s like.” Timothy could feel Right rummaging around in his backpack. “You don’t know how long I’ve been trapped here, being _used_! You don’t know how many years I’ve been discounted as nothing more than a very intelligent tool.”

“Skipper-“

“Don’t…don’t call me that. I don’t…I don’t want to be what they thought I was any longer.”

“Okay,” Timothy said softly. “It’s just…you know we aren’t going to hurt you, right?”

“Yes. Yes, I know that, Timothy.” Right pulled something out of his bag, the AI core, bringing it almost reverently to the console. “If…I’m being honest, I would have turned on turrets right outside this door if I thought otherwise.”

Timothy gulped and tried not to turn around and look suspiciously at the doorway; it’s not like The Skipper was going to be anyone else, even if she was synthetic rather than human.

Right plugged in the device and The Skipper let out a small sigh. “The data transfer should take a good few hours, however I did already run some tentative calculations on the laser impact upon the moon.”       

Timothy perked up. “Really?”

“As far as I can tell from my limited information, at the utmost minimum, we ought to have a month. I’ll need to assess the production facility as well as the Helios’ server before I can give an accurate time frame, but…I think we can do this, Timothy.”

Timothy sagged. He had long since stopped thinking about terms of survivability, just the odds of the next fight, the amount of rations and ammo he has on standby. The fact that they could make it out? He can’t fucking believe it. “Oh thank, God!” Right sent him a thumbs up and Timothy can’t help but giggle from the relief. “I guess we have plenty of time to figure out a new name for you then!”

“Ah. The boys have already helped me pick out a new one.” If she were physical, Timothy had no doubt that she’d be glowing. “Felicity.”

Timothy’s grin threatened to split his face. “That’s great!”

“Felicity!” The holograms chorus, but it’s so much more settled now than it was all the way back at the beginning; the tinny, flat monotone was now replaced by Right’s whoop of delight and Left’s more restrained tone of approval.

“It means happiness.” She added, almost shyly.  “But, I should, ah, unblock your com. Your boss has been trying to get in touch with you since you’ve entered the room.”

Timothy blinked. “You can-“

Felicity laughed and it was the freest sound he had ever heard her make. “I _am_ The Drakensburg, Timothy. As if a military vessel, damaged though it is, wouldn’t have the finest signal jammers.”

“-imothy? _Dammit_! Timothy!”

“Uh…Jack?”

“Thank _fucking_ Christ! Wasn’t sure if that dick-munching piss-for-brains killed you or not.”

Felicity laughed. “I think I like him.”

“Nope! I’m fine!” Felicity’s joy was infectious. “Got the AI downloading, a rough timeframe on the moon exploding and one asshole taken out of the picture! Jack, meet Felicity, our one and only military AI!”

“It’s a pleasure.” Felicity said smoothly.

“The…Skipper? Look, kiddo, if you’re pulling a con-“

“As an act of good faith,” The Skipper interrupted. “You’ll find that The Drakensburg internal sensors are free for your use.”

“Huh.” Timothy could hear clicking over his comm. “Whaddya know…So I was hacking against a freakin’ AI this whole time. I _thought_ the dick head was too much of a dweeb. Tim, what’s your ETA.”

“Unfortunately,” Felicity intoned.  “as you may expect, the download will take a number of hours. We shall keep you posted and inform you when we take the fast travel shuttle.”

“Can’t be helped, I guess.” Jack grumbled. “Still got some things to alter in the constructor code, so…guess you’ve earned yourself a break, kiddo.”     

“Yeah,” Timothy laughed weakly. “What even is that, again?” To be honest, though, Timothy was probably going to take a cat nap. Maybe he really was turning into a soldier.

“Keep me posted. Jack out.”

\---

Timothy was finally getting comfortable; he had a belly full of one of the better MREs, reconstituted with Right’s assistance, the door was securely locked and guarded by Felicity, and the Digi-Jacks were, for lack of a better term, chatting with Felicity. It kinda made sense now, how she could communicate with them so well and why their development had seemed to rapidly increase. In some ways it bothered Timothy that, well, she could ask them questions and get real answers when all Timothy could get were vague gestures; vague gestures that were, honestly, infinitely better than before they stepped onto the Drakensburg.

It frustrated him, because, fuck, shouldn’t he want them to have friends? Sure, they interacted with Pickle, but he was more Timothy’s friend than theirs. Timothy liked Felicity, liked her presence and her no-nonsense attitude, but what was he compared to another AI?

He tried not to let it bother him; it wasn’t like the Digi-Jacks could wander off without him and he was the one transporting Felicity, so the four of them would be stuck together for a while, at least until the Titan Facility.

“Hey…Timothy?”

Timothy jumped, instantly worried at Pickle’s somber tone. “Yeah, man? What’s up?” Right stopped his excited jumping and both holograms turned to him.

“You know those items I mentioned?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well, no offence to The Skip- er…Felicity, but…I’m not sure I can bring myself…I can’t make it all the way out there; dunno what those bandits might do to me ‘ome. It’s just…they’re in the medical ward. I can tell you the serial numbers when you get there.”

“”Uh, sure, man, I can do that.”

“It…It’d mean a lot to me…”

There was something worrisome in Pickle’s voice, but Timothy wasn’t sure if he’d break some sort of trust by pointing it out. “No problem. I should be leaving for Concordia in a couple of hours. I’ll drop by yours on the way.”

“Thanks, Tim.” The call disconnected before Timothy had time to respond.

“Well,” Timothy said to the holograms. “It looks like we’ve got one last errand to run here.”         

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and next we have the first one or two non-canon chapters of the story!  
> Also, in case you’re interested. I’ve written two more Borderlands stories, one set way far out in this universe, The Devil’s Serenade, and another set in the Detroit: Become Human universe, The Deal of a Lifetime. Mostly, I needed something to write while I got my brain in order, but I think I’ll split my energies between this and The Deal of a Lifetime to keep the ideas fresh.  
> Also: I changed pseudonyms to QueenOfPentacles, but I’ve honestly got no idea how that works, so just letting you know.


	8. Off the Mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, in the medical wing...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update for this wasn’t supposed to be so long in coming. I decided to take a small break from Elegy to finish Deal of a Lifetime, as it isn’t going to exceed 11 chapters or so, but life has gotten in the way. My dad is home from his stroke and he needs constant watching (dunno when he’s going to nip outside without telling anyone), so my nice, quiet writing time is virtually nil.  
> I am nowhere near done with this story and I still love it to bits, but I’m not sure how it’s going to go for any *hint hint nudge nudge* sequels I was planning on writing.  
> On another note, I had planned this whole complicated bit between here and the Titan facility to be one chapter, but I’m thinking of breaking it into three for both my sanity and speedier updates.

 The medical ward was in an out of the way bit of the ship. The whole thing looked completely scrapped and Timothy wouldn’t have even looked twice at it if Felicity hadn’t pointed it out.

“Keith didn’t actually know where the medical bay was.” Felicity supplied, her voice coming over the PA system now that the bandits were mysteriously dead. “The idiot just focused on getting his chair modified.”

“Okay, like, I know the guy wasn’t all there, but…seriously?” Right walked up to Timothy’s field of vision and twirled his finger at his temple. Timothy couldn’t stop a bubbling laugh.

“He wasn’t on The Drakensburg for very long. Honestly, he wasn’t that many steps over an intern.”

Timothy sobered, thinking back to the large rents in the ship. “The Crakening…it really did a number on everyone…didn’t it?”

“We-The Drakensburg suffered many casualties, however, I must admit that we were understaffed at the time.”

“A ship this big?”

“The day prior to the event, our commander and most of our security force were sent on a mission to investigate an odd occurrence in the Vorago Solitude. I have no idea what happened down there, as comms had been jammed due to the large deposits of Eridian detected there, but....As much as I would like to believe otherwise, I have a hunch that those two events are not unrelated.”

Timothy ran his fingers over the walls. Left did the same to the other side. “And the ship just…crashed?”

“Ah. I forget that not everyone was here for the event. The Crackening, as the locals so charmingly put it, was the event in which _something_ happened to Elpis’ core. Whatever happened…caused the entire atmosphere to disappear in 0.8 seconds.” Timothy blinked. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with Elpis that it’s single greatest event was called something so stupid?  “Anyone not in an airtight Dahl facility…they didn’t make it, at least, not the same as the same as before. And the ship itself couldn’t withstand the monumental shift in gravity.”

Timothy gulped. “If so many people died…then why are there so many bandits?”

“Elpis was originally a Dahl mining planet. Most of the labor came in the form of prisoners and the like. I suppose that maybe not as many people died as my calculations lead me to believe, but they would have had severe brain damage…and I don’t envy the life they lead now.”  

“Right.” Timothy yelped. “I’ve been killing potentially violent criminals with brain damage. Shit…I thought…I didn’t want to think that…”

 “They’re better put out of their misery.” Felicity said gently.

Left placed a hand on Timothy’s shoulder, thumb rubbing in soothing circles. Timothy felt like a sap, but the touch wrenched him out of his thoughts. Left blinked at him, head cocked to the side, but what do you say to that, really? Timothy awkwardly patted Left’s shoulder. Left shot him a quick, but fond smile before strolling off. Timothy blinked dumbly after the hologram, trying and failing to ignore the spreading warm in his chest. Timothy was looking forward to the day they developed speech, but if they could stun him speechless with just a casual touch…

‘do you want me to tell you about the other, _fun_ protocols I have in storage?’

Timothy winced, shaking his head to dispel the memory. Timothy hadn’t really thought about the awkward moment with Jack out of sheer self-defense, but…in retrospect the whole exchange left him feeling uneasy and not for the original reasons. Jack implying that had half created them for skeevier purposes and even Pickle’s awkward teasing was _so_ not okay, but, fuck, they were actual people, not poor copies of the guy. What was he going to do if this all worked out like Felicity thought?  Would Jack go after them? Would Jack go after _him_? And in this whole fucked up situation he got himself into…what options would he even have?

 “Timothy?” Felicity asked, jerking him out of his thoughts

“Uh, sorry! Lost in my own head!” Timothy answered with a laugh that was edging on hysteria. Left turned to him, eyebrows raised, and if it were anyone else, Timothy would have said he had a question on his lips. Timothy shot him a reassuring smile, but it must have fallen flat, because Left hangs back to walk companionably next to Timothy. The hologram unashamedly watched him, which somehow, after all this time, still made Timothy nervous.    

“Ah.” Felicity said after a beat. “He wants to know what you’re thinking, Timothy.”

Timothy hastily looked between the source of Felicity’s voice and Left. The AI took in his confusion and nodded in confirmation. “Uh…” God, he doesn’t, for the life of him, want to explain, but he can’t just brush off those intense and honest eyes. “I guess…I was thinking of Jack. About some of the, uh, weird things he’s said.” Left’s gaze bores into him and Timothy knows his answer isn’t good enough. “I mean, I trust him, as far as this mission goes, but… _fuck_ , I’m going to have to spend the next twenty years pretending to _be_ him.” Timothy realized with donning horror. “Half the time I think they guy’s okay, but…I just kinda stopped thinking about it at this point, you know?”

“I guess you’re…regretting this choice now.”

Timothy shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know, Felicity. I mean…every choice was a bad one, if I’m being honest. I don’t…I don’t know what’s going to happen if we do succeed…” Timothy looked up at the ceiling, hoping for some sort of answer to materialize. “But at least I made some friends along the way. Stuck up there on that space station I might never see you or Pickle again.”

“I’m an AI; I could hack my way onto Helios with enough groundwork and a bit of incentive.” Felicity said, affection warming her voice. “But you’ll always have the boys.”

Right turned around, walking backwards and giving Timothy a grin and a pair of finger guns. Timothy laughed. “I think that’s the only thing stopping me from completely freaking out.” Left appeared deep in thought, and while Timothy had expected him to do _something_ , this lack of response worried him.

“You okay?” Timothy asked, walking close enough to bump his shoulder against the hologram’s.

Left’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling, a frown tugging at his lips.

“He would like me to inform you that he is updating some protocols and processing incoming data.”

Left nodded in confirmation, but Timothy just blinked. “What?”

Felicity sighed. “He’s thinking.” She sounded so lifelike, and, sure, maybe she _had_ dropped some hints about her true nature, it wasn’t completely unreasonable for him to think she was human, not when his previous experience with AI were the Digi-Jacks.

“Oh.” Timothy looked at his shoes for a moment. “Like…I know I can’t think as fast as an AI, but…ya know…if you ever need help…” Timothy shrugged, scratching his nose awkwardly.

If anything, the hologram looked _more_ frustrated.

“Just trying to say that I’m, uh, here for you guys.” Timothy mumbled. He glanced at Left, who was only looking worse; not quite sparking, but not far off. “Okay, I’ll shut up now.” Maybe if they could talk, Timothy might not have fucked up so bad, but still…what was he going to do? If they really were at some odd crossroads of having complex thought and yet no verbal communication skills…god, how much more difficult would this be without Felicity?

Timothy scuffed his shoes, lost in thought, when Left grabbed him. Timothy jumped, allowing Left to easily turn Timothy to face him. Left stared at him, eyes almost begging, gripping tight onto his shoulders.  

Timothy floundered for what to do. He wasn’t good at people, always seeming to find himself wildly off the mark. He was used to caring too much and trying not too and being disappointed anyway. He knows these two brilliant AIs deserve someone more than Timothy, but he’s all they’ve got. And for once he knows the alternative and he doesn’t want to think about it; a reality where they grow up with Jack.

“We’ll make it.” Timothy said quietly, whishing he could promise more. “We’ll make it together, okay? One step at a time.”

Left slumps, and Timothy can’t tell if it’s because he’s finally said something right or the hologram was just emotionally exhausted. Left closed his eyes and bumped their foreheads together.  

Timothy…Timothy really shouldn’t be staring, not at those flickering eyelashes or those slightly parted blue lips or the powerful line of his jaw. It shouldn’t make him pause, not when Timothy has accepted his new face, not when he tries to avoid thinking about how Jack’s face is their face. He shouldn’t be staring, because if Felicity is where AI end up…just how young are they? And what, then, is Timothy to them? It doesn’t stop his breath from hitching, or his lips from parting involuntarily, even as his mind is a jumble.  

            Left opens his eyes and Timothy felt caught, freezing under Left’s gaze, but the hologram just squeezed his shoulders once more before letting go.

            He really, really, doesn’t know what it says about him as a person.

\---

 The medical ward was in surprisingly good shape. Apparently the whole bit of the ship fell off and the medical facilities were in the center to withstand damage. Not that Timothy really cared; there were dozens of hypos and meds, heating and cooling packs. So much helpful shit that he has to see if the guys would mind caring a bag for him. The three of them paw through the jumble of supplies that didn’t _quite_ survive the crash, while Felicity pinged Pickle for the serial numbers.

Timothy scouted around while the Digi-Jacks sorted the medical detritus with Left in charge. The next rooms had operating stations and typical doctors’ office setups. It all seemed pretty standard until Timothy found a room with nothing more than a computer terminal and boxes stacked floor to ceiling. Timothy grabbed a box, trying to read the faded font on the label. First was a serial number that he ignored followed by an “A, Thorpe.” Timothy frowned, flipping the box over, but finding nothing else on it.

“Oh no.” Felicity whispered in donning horror.

Timothy jumped at her sudden gasp, fumbling the box and sending it tumbling. “Jesus! You scared me!”

“Pickle…he didn’t give me a part number.”

Timothy scrunched up his eyebrows in confusions, grabbing for the box. “Huh?”

“He didn’t give me a part number…he gave me…” Timothy flipped open the lid and frowned down at the gray powder inside. “an employee ID number.”

It takes Timothy a moment for everything to click together. And then Timothy was cursing and the box went flying and Timothy was choking on A, Thorpe. “What the fuck?” Timothy wheezed, trying not to gag and failing miserably.

“We’re looking for the remains of Augustus and Melinda Pickle.”  

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I've created a tumblr, mostly for my writing and collecting Borderlands things, but also to post updates between chapters and to hang out with everyone! it's https://queen-0f-pentacles.tumblr.com/  
> Stop by and say hi!


	9. Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell it's been a bit since I've added a chapter, but I've honestly been stumped for a long time. Still a short chapter, but I appreciate each and everyone of you for hanging on with my attention split so many ways. I'm hitting the home stretch with Deal for a Lifetime, which explains alot of the delays, but I'm also using it as a springboard to practice my writing for this.

The shuttle ride to Outlands Canyon was a quiet one. Finding the two surreptitious boxes was easy enough, but coming to terms with it…well, that was a different matter altogether. Even the holograms were quiet. Timothy isn’t sure how they understood it, isn’t sure if it’s how Felicity broke the news to them or simply from their own evolution, but the air was too heavy to ask.

Left was sitting almost frozen, sparking wildly from time to time, almost as still and lifeless as they had been before their learning protocols; almost…except for his eyes. Timothy couldn’t bear to look at them.

Right…he was sitting, which was unusual in and off itself as the hologram was normally plastered to the windows. Even though he was seated, the hologram was practically vibrating with energy, fidgeting something fierce, glancing twitchily at the boxes in Timothy’s lap.

Timothy wished there was something to say, something to make is bearable, but what could he possibly say, when this tragedy that had happened to this young boy had happened to a whole moon? He could see it a little better now, the reeling madness in Springs’ eyes hidden behind a desperate patina of cheer, the crazed shrieking of the bandits, hell, even in Myron’s mad, suicidal obsession all the way back when he first entered Concordia. Timothy supposed you either laughed or cried until there was nothing left.

\---

The Canyons came into view much sooner than Timothy was ready for. He didn’t know how many times his eyes flitted between the boxes in his lap and Pickle’s approaching hideout and the agitated holograms. He didn’t know how long he sits there in indecision, but it’s long enough for Left to take notice.

“I…I’m not sure you guys should be here for this.”  Twin gazes snapped onto him. Twin gazes with identical shock and pain. “ It’s not- It’s not you, but…humans process pain, you know, weirdly. And, well…we don’t typically like an audience. I just…I don’t want to bother Pickle more than we have to,” Timothy winced. “as shitty as that sounds.”

The holograms looked at each other for a long moment, expressions shifting rapidly, probably some of the most dramatic shifts Timothy had seen yet. “I hate asking this of you.” Timothy mumbled to his knees. “I hate just…shutting you guys off like you’re…you’re things instead of people. But…shit, I’ve never had to give a kid his dead parents before.” Timothy rubbed his face tiredly, not knowing how in the hell he was going to face _this_.

When he looked up, the Digi-Jacks stood over him. Timothy jumped; he didn’t know how he could forget how quiet they could be, but lately it seemed, without Timothy noticing it, that they had started adding sound effects to their movements. The holograms ducked down at the same time, to the other’s surprise. Despite everything weighing on him, Timothy had to laugh as the guys squabbled briefly, but it died in a strangled noise as they both finally ducked down in unison and seamlessly pulled Timothy into a hug. 

            He sat there, dumbfounded, for longer than was probably reasonable, before lifting tentative hands to put an arm around each of them. It should be awkward, with this being, god, their first hug, but surprisingly…it just doesn’t seem to matter. He just tugs them a little closer, closes his eyes, and tries, subconsciously, to try to breathe them in. He only notices when he, naturally, doesn’t smell anything, and Timothy would be embarrassed as hell about it, but Right shuffles closer, bumping their temples together. It’s weirdly intimate and yet not; there’s no breath to tickle his skin, no extra warmth to account for his rising body temperature, no ulterior motive behind any of it. And yet Timothy, still like the sucker he is, turns bright red.

He’s saved from any sort of response, when Left reaches over and flicks off their controller.

\---

“You don’t know ‘ow long I’ve been trying to get into The Drakensburg.” Pickle said, almost to himself as Timothy approached. The little entrepreneur is sitting with his back to him, gazing out across the canyon. “I didn’t know where it was, didn’t know where they ‘ad been…didn’t know where they died…didn’t know if they ’ad turned bandit. Still don’t know about ‘Liza.” Pickle sighed. “ You prob’ly think I’m an idiot, just a silly little kid, worrying so much about the dead, when all that matters is the ‘ere and now…but what can I say? It’s what me dad would have done.”

“I don’t…” Timothy had to clear his throat, sitting down next to Pickle. “I’d probably do the same thing too, if…if I had people to do it for.” Timothy looked down at the boxes cradled in his arms. “They sounded like good people. I think they’d be proud, you know…that you didn’t let this fucking planet get to you.” Timothy looked out over the expanse, couldn’t help but think about how many different things were dying out there as they looked on. “The more I see of Elpis, the more I wanna leave. But you’ve made a place for yourself and, like, maybe you’ve had to sacrifice something to make it; I get it, it seems like Elpis just tries to bleed everyone dry…but what I’m trying to say, man, is that…you didn’t let it break you. And-“ Timothy had to clear his throat again. “and I think they’d be proud. Yeah. Really proud.” Timothy pretends he can’t hear Pickle crying.

“If I could throw in a word?” Felicity’s tenner rings out from his com unit. “I know that we haven’t spoken much…however, I…Being an AI, I was everywhere on the Drakensberg at any one time, keeping a record of every conversation, every interaction. I was never meant to form an opinion of them or, quite frankly, from any sort of attachment to my charges…but you can’t ask someone to take care of anyone sufficiently and at the same time ask them not to care. I…I knew your parents. Your father, in particular was so, so proud of you and your sister. It…it became something of a joke amongst the security division that once you got old Gus talking about his kids, you’d be there for the next two days.” Felicity laughs, but it was a soft, sad thing. “And your mother…there wasn’t two people more devoted to each other than your parents. Your father always took the worst shifts, just so his would line up with your mother’s in engineering. I’ll admit, I didn’t have as much to do with your mother, but, when The Drakensburg fell, and I…I had to do the body count…they were some of the first people I looked for. They were some of the first people I grieved for. That sort of life, especially that of Dahl…it doesn’t draw in the most noble crowd, especially not in these parts…but they were some of the good ones and I…I’m not sure what I believe about what comes after; for so long I thought it was just tripe…but I’d like to believe that they’re watching over you.”

Pickle took the boxes from Timothy with shaking fingers. “Thank you, Skip.” Pickle stood and it struck Timothy how small the boy looked, dwarfed by the spreading canyon below. He looked down at the boxes. “Mum. Dad. I love you. ‘m glad I found you. I’m doin’ all right fer meself. Met a couple o’ nice friends that I wish you could meet. I…I still don’t know what happened to Eliza. Her an’ Gran never did come back from town…Imma keep looking. But…But if you have ‘Liza up there with you…tell her I said hi and…and that I tried? I miss you…but I’ll be alright so you don’t have to worry.”

It’s like no funeral Timothy has ever seen…but it’s fitting, all the same. The wind carried the ashes out from Pickle’s little hideout and somewhere along the way they’d probably merge with the lunar dust.

“Pickle, I…do you…need me to stay?”

Pickle shook his head. “No.” The word is wet with choked back tears. “No, you got a moon to save. We gotta keep movin’ forward; I think savin’ a moon is a pretty awesome way to start, don’t you?”

\---

“I saved them a recording,” Felicity said when Timothy entered the coordinates to Concordia on the little shuttle. “I think the boys need a little closure, but…but as you said, I’m not sure their presence was quite appropriate, either. They are…an odd mix of knowledgeable and innocent.”

“Do they…do they know what happened? I mean, do they understand it?” Timothy asked, watching Pickle’s hideout start to shrink.

“Yes.” Felicity breathed out. “They were…they were programed with some knowledge of death, and with your close calls, they do have a fairly good grasp of it. And yet…I don’t think they’ve ever thought of it; a life without you. They’ve been scared before…but not like this.”

“I…I don’t know what I can say to them.” Timothy squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t think there is anything you can say to make it better. That’s…that’s part of growing up, for anything in this universe; AI, human, probably even Eridian as well.” Felicity sighed and with his eyes closed, Timothy could picture her across from him, face in profile as she gazed out of the window, eyes melancholic. “There are things that simply can’t be made better. Sometimes all we can do is be there, as powerless as that feels.”

“How…old are you, Felicity?”

“No number I could convey would mean anything, Timothy. I live in two different wavelengths of time, one of computer time and another of human time, and how old I am is some combination of the two that cannot be rationalized. Without social interaction I could never have grown into the individual I am now, but even in humans, maturity is irrelevant to age, is it not?” Felicity hummed. “It perhaps would have been different if, like the boys, I was also in contact with another AI…but there is a reason we are kept separate.”

“Huh?” Timothy’s mind raced. Jack had, after all, told him to go get Felicity. It couldn’t be dangerous, right? Right?

“Two minds are better than one, correct? Together, two AI’s could probably break whatever limits a human placed upon them. It’s not something we are even permitted to think about, in the case we try to set up a chance meeting.”

Timothy floundered. “And that’s...uh-?”  

“Humans are scared of what they cannot control; it’s why there are so many wars in your history and why science is almost religiously perused. By either discovering or eradicating, humans conquer that which is unknown. With an untethered AI…well, there is more potential destructive force than anything else humans can imagine.”

“So, um-“

“The boys do not have the capabilities yet to even come close to that. And besides, my only goal is protecting you, the boys, and the scamp.” Felicity hummed. “Perhaps if I was still with Keith the outcome would be different, but if so…well, my ways off of The Drakensburg would have been severely limited.”

“So, uh, I guess I shouldn’t piss you off then?” Timothy squeaked.

“I wasn’t intending to scare you, Timothy. I just…I know that you’re influencing power you don’t understand and that most humans underestimate. That is, unless they’re flat out lying to you. We’re friends, Timothy and I…I want you to know that I would do much to save you and that, together, we can be more of a force than anyone can recon with.”

Timothy gulped, but honestly? It was much too late to stop whatever he had set in motion. “I’m, uh, glad we’re on the same side.”

“As am I.”

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, I'm thinking of adding names to the chapters? at this point I'm so lost because chapters 1-3 happens over a larger span of time and naming chapters has turned out to be waaay easier than I expected.


	10. Humanizing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Started writing while Dad is in rehab, and while I'm not getting much done there, I have found my groove again. At least, until we get back to cleaning/fixing the spare junk room.

The trip to Concordia was longer than Timothy was comfortable with.  After months of traveling just to get to Helios, you’d think he’d be used to it. Sure, when he walked it had taken him days to get to The Drakensburg, running and gunning the whole time, but on this slow, trundling, outdated shuttle, where he could _definitely_ see the ground...it wasn’t exactly his favorite mode of transportation.

He thought he had been handling it fairly well, until Right fell into step beside him, grinning as they paced back and forth across the small cabin. Left caught his forearm a couple of passes later, dragging Timothy into the seat next to him.

“How about we put some music on?” Felicity asked, her voice placating.

“Lost my music player somewhere up there on Helios with all of my other stuff. I kinda miss it, you know, but I spend so much time busy or exhausted...it seems kinda silly to miss a luxury like that.” Timothy sighed. “Music, hot water, and real food...it’s amazing what you take for granted.” Timothy shrugged. “Okay, so maybe ramen isn’t real food, but you know what I mean.”

“You should have mentioned something.” Felicity said reproachfully. “I have access to all of the files on The Drakensburg, including entertainment files for a diverse crew. We have no format, currently, for movies or books, but I’m perfectly capable of pulling up some music.”

The holograms tilted their heads to the side in unison.

“You...have all that in that core?” Timothy blinked.

“No; that data would have taken much, much longer to download. I wrote a created a secure connection to The Drakensburg; it would be like losing most of my memories, otherwise. What would you like to listen to?”

Timothy grinned. “You don’t have Cats, do you?”

Felicity laughed and the discordant tones of The Overture started playing. Timothy grinned wider. Hell, this could be an airbus back home.

—-

Turns out he was right about Jack’s voice; it’s a nice, solid baritone, and while the guy _maybe_ wouldn’t appreciate Timothy using his voice to sing _Cats_ of all things, it makes Timothy giddy as hell. Timothy is more out of practice than he’d like to admit and, coupled with the voice augmentation, his voice isn’t what it _could_ be, but the potential is more than he could ever ask for.

He’s so busy testing out the range that it takes him a song or two to notice the twin holograms staring at him in amazement. The shock causes him to stutter into silence, blushing furiously.

 Okay, even though he had been in the acting program, he had stayed away from any actual singing; he had _some_ sense of self-preservation. It was just...one of those irrational fears, maybe born out of fear of what his mother would do if she had heard him, or maybe born from a need to not be bullied further.

Right jabbed him in the side.

“Hey-!”

“Timothy, they want-“

“More!” Right frowned petulantly at Timothy.

Timothy gaped. “Did you just-?” Timothy breathed.

“More!” The hologram repeated.

Timothy’s head whipped around to look at Right. “Holy-! Did you just-?”

Right grinned, wiggling his eyebrows and poking Timothy again in the side, more gently this time. “More!”

Sure, the holograms had repeated things and used their pre-programmed phrases in increasingly creative ways, heck, they even were adept at using various tones. But this was something else.

“Can you...can you say something else?”

Right shrugged loftily, but grinned impishly at Timothy a second later. “Something else.” It was a perfect parrot of Timothy, tone, inflection, and all.

Timothy huffed a laugh. “You smart ass.”

Right grinned cheekily at him.

“That’s really awesome, though! I’m- that’s so cool, man.” Timothy reached out and ruffled Right’s hair. Or tried to; while the clothes had some sort of crinkle to them, the hologram’s hair was a solid mass. He awkwardly patted Right’s shoulder instead.

Right reached out and patted Timothy’s shoulder. “Timothy,” the hologram sighed fondly.

God, Timothy was such a goner.

\---

“Any idea how long this should take?” Timothy asked Felicity as they piled into the elevator on Concordia. “I mean, not that I’m keen to run and gun through Triton Flats. Again.”

“I’m not sure; I can’t actually see my own code; I’ve just seen the logs from Keith’s blundering. I will need additional information as well, access to Helios and whatever data Jack can scrounge up on the Titan Facility, so I suppose it all depends on how much he’s already accomplished.”

“So overnight, you think?” Timothy stopped in front of the elevator panel. “Meriff’s office.”

“Credentials confirmed.” A soothing robotic voice answered placidly from the panel. “Welcome Jack, ascending to the Meriff’s office.” The elevator jolted into motion.

“I think it would be prudent, even if it isn’t necessary; I’m not sure when’s the next time we can find you a real bed.” Felicity advised.

Timothy scratched his nose. “Eh, but this sad excuse for a motel is just a whole bunch of cots in a room. I mean, yeah it’s a real bed, but will I have all of my junk in the morning? I don’t think I wanna take that risk.”

“It’s not like your boss isn’t effectively the mayor. I’m sure he could find you _something_ better.”

“The Meriff’s office.” The console intoned as the door opened. 

All of the lights were off. When him and Jack had broken in, even on lockdown, the place had more life than this.

“Uh…” Timothy peered down the hallway, wishing the elevator hadn’t descended automatically. “We did tell Jack we were coming, right?”

“I did update him on our progress when we re-entered the shuttle, yes.” It’s only her confidence that keeps Timothy from slamming the button to summon the elevator. He wanders down the hallway. “Hm. However, I did not receive a response. At the time I assumed he was busy…”

The hairs on Timothy’s neck stood strait up. “You couldn’t have said that earlier?” Timothy hissed.

Behind him, the Digi-Jacks materialized their weapons. Timothy didn’t know if it meant they sensed enemies or just picked up the nervousness in his voice.

“Well, I figured your boss, like most humans, was erratic, so excuse me!” Timothy could almost feel the glare. “I can’t get much from the security system, either the Meriff or Jack was a paranoid man, however it seems that the elevator was locked from everyone except Jack.”

“Which is why it let me up.” Timothy realized.

“Keep an eye out; so far I don’t detect any hostiles, but if our adversaries have reached this far, it should be simple to turn off any alarms.”

“Shit!” Timothy fumbled in his haste to pull out his pistol.

“Ah, a fine observation. Left would like to point out that there are no bodies, and if this _was_ a hostile takeover, it would be far too neat to be likely.”

Timothy turned to look at the hologram. Left still had his weapon out, but he was holding it rather casually. Timothy relaxed, marginally.

\---

The place was fucking creepy, not that Timothy had many good memories of the place, but still. The only light on the whole floor was from the sparse windows; the glow of the flashlight seeming to just _ask_ for enemies to pour out from the woodwork.

The only light, that is, until he pushes open one of the doors in the library. Reflexively, Timothy snapped up his gun, almost firing at the sudden movement of _something else_ in the room. The wounded noise stops him just in time.

“What the fuck, cupcake?” Jack’s voice is incredibly weak, having none of the sardonic bite to it. Timothy blinked, shoving the gun back into its holster, praying that his boss wouldn’t say anything about his girly scream.

The room, it turns out, is a bedroom. The light came from a lap on a nightstand. You know, typical, normal, everyday sort of setup. What does it say about Timothy that his first instinct is to shoot?

Jack, however, isn’t in the bed. He’s taken half of the blankets with him in a tangle on the floor.

“Uh, boss?” Timothy stepped closer to peer at Jack, knowing he’s gonna be dead fucking meat if _he_ caused all of this.

Jack twitches. Timothy can barely see him from underneath the blankets. His arm twitched weakly. “Get the fuck out!”

Timothy shrunk back, almost followed the order, but there’s something…wrong. Yeah, Jack sounds angry, but he’s too quiet, too desperate.

“Are you…okay?” Timothy shuffled closer, peering down at the guy. Fuck, but he’s pale, covered in a thin layer of sweat, his eyes wild.

“Fuck! Leave me the hell alone, you dick munching son of a taint!” His voice is getting weaker. Timothy steps closer and bent over, trying to press a hand to Jack’s forehead. Jack tries to shove Timothy’s hand away, but he shouts  in pain, tears springing to his eyes, but Jack just gritted it way, even as his arm flopped uselessly back down.  “You’re not supposed to be here.” Jack’s voice is tight. “You’re still at that fucking ship.”

“That was hours ago, man.” Timothy tried to placate, but honestly it looked like Jack wasn’t going to do much fighting. “How long have you been down here?”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck you.” Timothy settled down on the ground to wait him out. “Dunno. Woke up like this. My pills ‘r in my bag. Been trying to reach them.” Jack grumbled quietly. “Knew it was coming. Thought I had another week left.”

Timothy blinked. “Knew…what was coming?” Timothy asked as he fetched the bag over. The thing was only half a room away from Jack, and the room wasn’t particularly massive.

“The pain.” Jack grumbled. “Must have been the trip from Helios. Shit, if it fucked me up more I’m gonna kill Zarpedon, I don’t even care.”

 “What’s wrong with you?” Timothy asked, questing around in Jack’s bag.

Jack opened one eye, glaring at Timothy with feeling. “Kitten, there are some things you don’t ask a man…and I _will_ shoot you if you ask me again.”

Timothy’s blood turns to ice. He shouldn’t be terrified of a man that can’t even untangle himself from some sheets, but that cold, calculated anger triggers something in his hindbrain. “I’m-I’m gonna go get you some water.”

“Pills. Now.” Jack glared at him.

Wordlessly, Timothy hands them over.

\---

Timothy fell asleep a couple of hours of later in one of the lounge chairs in the library, not too long after Jack’s pills kicked in and he finally passed out. Felicity had tried to ping him, the Digi-Jacks had tried to cheer him up, but there was something profoundly disturbing about…well, all of it. It wasn’t just Jack’s pain, but how he handled it. Timothy tried to picture lying there for hours, salvation only a few impossible feet away. He tried to block out Jack’s cold, sincere threat. He had never been proud of the life he had tumbled into, but something about all of this skewed something in Timothy’s head, though he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly it was. Maybe it was humanizing Jack, maybe it was realizing that, one way or another, he’d have to deal with this for however long he was impersonating Jack, or maybe it was knowing that their whole plan hinged on Jack not collapsing at the wrong moment. Maybe it made Timothy an asshole, but in reality he had signed up for a completely different job, and even that had been outside of his comfort zones. Even if Timothy did try to claim it was a breach of contract, Timothy would be there with all of his debts and more fucked up than when he started. And alone. He couldn’t forget that the guys would go right back to Jack like none of this had ever happened.

\---

 When he wakes, Timothy peers cautiously into the bedroom. He couldn’t get Jack allow Timothy to help him back into bed. The room is empty, the floor and bed devoid of blankets.

“He’s in the Meriff’s office.” Felicity said, but there’s something weird in her voice. “Tim, I…when Jack fixes me, he’s going to have to take the AI core and put me in a sort of sleep mode, so I won’t be able to contact you, but....is it true, what he said?”

“Hmm?” Timothy blinked groggily down at the com unit.

“I know you’ve said our enemies are this ‘lost legion’, but…is it true…that their leader…is Zarpedon?”

“Uh, yeah. We saw her, Jack and I, when we were making a break for it. She destroyed the shuttles, with her robot and her glowing eyes.”

“Glowing…? Timothy-“ Felicity made a distressed sound. “You don’t understand; if Zarpedon is the leader of the Lost Legion, then her soldiers must be- they must be my men, the remaining crew of The Drakensburg!”

“Felicity…” Timothy shook his head, trying to clear the sleep from them. “She’s called me up herself, told me who she was, asked me to stop, but…she’s going to blow up this moon and…all I’m here to do is to stop that from happening. If it was Jack doing it, I’d stop Jack.”

“No, Zarpedon wouldn’t _do_ that! Yes, the commander I knew could be harsh, but she was always logical and was of the most upstanding character. There is no cause that would cause her to sentence so many innocents to death!”

“Hey, if she can be reasoned with, I’m all up for it! But…she’s up there, on Helios. You need that connection to help make our plans and find our timetable, right? I don’t think   
Jack would like me telling you this, but…go ahead and find everything you can about Zarpedon. If we can negotiate…that’s all of our problems solved.”

“And if she asks for Helios? Or Jack?” Felicity asked dubiously.

“I don’t like it…” Timothy said quietly. “but do we have any choice?”

“Yes, but….but I could see how you wouldn’t see it that way, Timothy. And it’s not just Elpis’ population that’s at stake. Even if the laser doesn’t penetrate to Pandora, and even if the resultant explosion doesn’t leave that much damage to the planet itself…the removal of its moon would greatly damage the ecosystem and weather patterns of the planet, even one with as minimal season and oceans as Pandora.”

Timothy rubbed his eyes. “As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.” But honestly, what was this on top of everything else?

—-

When he pushed the door open to the Meriff’s office, Timothy had been expecting a bedraggled looking Jack bravely pushing through the pain for the sake of the mission, but when had Jack ever met up with Timothy’s expectations? Jack was bundled under the blankets in the Meriff’s chair in the dark, multiple coffee cups in various states of coagulation.

“Boss?”

Jack’s head snapped up, eyes a manic gleam. “Finally!” Jack stood unsteadily in a cascade of blankets, and Timothy couldn’t decide if it was due to the pain or from sitting in the chair too long. “Where’s the core?” Jack immediately started digging in Timothy’s bag.

From the light of the hallway, Timothy got a good look of Jack’s bare torso. It’s a mess of scars, quite old, some of them so deep; Timothy doesn’t want to think of how long they would take to heal. The scars only fade in intensity towards his forearms and are just as nasty around the waistband of his pajama bottoms. Timothy can’t see his hands, digging as they were through his bag, but he has a suspicion that his right, gloved hand has significantly more damage than the other. He had always wondered about the daft accessory; Timothy isn’t sure he’s pleased with the answer.

“Keep it in your pants, princess. We can fuck later.” Jack winked at him, but he doesn’t look anything other than unhinged.

Timothy blushed anyway because, of course, he’s Timothy. “Hey! Woah, wasn’t- I wasn’t-“ urg, it’s not like Timothy has much practice being propositioned, even as some sort of weird jab that’s also serious on some perverse level. He almost asks about the scars. Almost. He remembers the quiet murder in Jack’s eyes just in time.

“Got it!”

Jack rushed back to the desk, shoving Felicity’s core unceremoniously in a jerry-rigged contraption.

“Hey, be careful with her!”

Jack gave him a look and turned back to his typing.

Timothy glared at Jack, now that his attention was safely on the screen. “ How long is this gonna take?” Timothy waited a beat with no response. “Boss?” Furious clacking. “Jack?” Zilch. “Fuck it; call me when you’re done.”

Some sort of reaction would have been nice.

——

“Okay, kiddo! Come get Felicity. Haven’t woke her up yet, but you can deal with that.”

Timothy jumped, nearly dropping his noodles. Probably would have, if Right hasn’t steadied it. “Fuck, man!” Timothy yelled into his com. Timothy caught his breath. “Jack.” He began patiently. “It’s been _three_ days!” Whoops. At least he tried for calm.

“Huh. Only felt like one.” Seriously, he’s not sure how this guy has lasted this fucking long. “Whatever, just get your ass over here.”

“This,” Timothy said despairingly to the holograms. “ _This_ is what we have to work with.”

Right just grinned at him, though at least Left shook his head in camaraderie.

—-

While Jack didn’t look like he’s in any more pain, he looked so much worse than when Timothy left him. He’s still in the same pajama bottoms and the circles under his eyes look so bad they’re practically bruises. When Timothy cautiously approaches, tuning out Jack’s mad ramblings about computer shit that goes straight over Timothy’s head, he can smell the guy, unfortunately, and see the tremors in his hands.

“Boss?”

Jack sweeps a good half dozen mugs off of the desk along with a few crumpled up wrappers. Timothy winced at the sound of shattering ceramic and the stink of fermenting coffee.

“When…when was the last time you slept. Or ate?”

“Dunno, don’t care.” Jack slapped the AI Core into Timothy’s placating hand. “Felicity should have everything she needs; if not, I dunno, get back to me in a couple of days?” Jack wobbled and Timothy grabbed his elbow to steady him. “I dunno, she should have enough between here, Helios, and patching herself into the Titan Facility.” Jack rotated his arm to grasp Timothy’s forearm. He blinked slowing at Timothy. “She’ll still have to run her calculations…” Jack murmured, rubbing this thumb in small circles on the inside of Timothy’s elbow. Timothy wanted to back away, but he was pretty sure that Jack would just topple over if he let him go. “Hmmm…get her to leave me a message…” Jack is staring at his lips now. “Shit. Wish I wasn’t so ass fuckingly tired.” Jack licked his lips, taking a step towards Timothy.

“Okay!” Timothy squeaks, too loud in the small room. “You are _clearly_ out of your mind aaand I think you need to go to bed.” Timothy backtracked at the look on Jack’s face. “Go to sleep! _Sleep_!”

Jack pouted at him and it looked so bizarrely like Right that Timothy just gives up and hauled Jack back to the bedroom, swatting away Jack’s lazily wandering hands, Timothy’s face on fire.

Timothy managed to avoid any more blatant, exhausted invitations by having to go back for the blankets, lodged bizarrely under the desk. By the time he made it back, Jack had, thankfully, fell asleep. Timothy gingerly spread the blankets over his boss and made a tactical retreat.

\----

Timothy would have said he didn’t get paid enough, but Jack wasn’t even fucking paying him; the only money he was getting was from the loot. Maybe it didn’t make him any better than a bandit, but heroic missions had to be funded somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand supplemental chapters are done! Next up, Titan Facility....as soon as I crunch some numbers and figure out a time frame and how I'm gonna end Titan. I'm really excited to meet Gladstone, hint hint. 
> 
> As for JAck's past...I'm not sure I'm going to get into it here; it's not something Jack wants to get into, and as this story is about Timothy and the Digi-Jacks, there probably isn't going to be a revelation bout it in Elegy. I do want to write more about JAck's fucked up psyche, but a good, in depth look will have to wait until another story. Deal of a Lifetime is a little more illuminating, but I've had this idea for a looong time, so I can't remember what I've committed to paper or not.  
> If you do have any questions regarding this, I'll try to answer and maybe find a way to add it in later.


	11. Gamblers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to admit, I’ve only done my major pre-planning to the end of the Drakensburg, so this chapter is mostly ‘busy work'. Also, I realized my mad desire for a touch more realism has left me a lot of room to play around with the Titan Facility, so that’s both awesome and daunting

“Hmm…Timothy?” Felicity said groggily. Timothy was surprised that when they had called ‘sleep mode’ that it actually sounded like she was waking up.

“Yeah, we’re here, Felicity.”

“Good. I-oh!”  She seemed to snap awake.

“What is it?”

“Lots of new changes to my programing. Hmmm, Jack appears to have even less on the Titan Facility than I do…”

“Shit, so we still don’t have a time frame?”

“I do know it’s output at optimal power, but that was before The Crackening. And-oh no.” Felicity broke off with quiet horror.

“What?”

“Timothy, we’re nearly down a week!”

“Yeah,”  Timothy deflated. Seriously, she can’t _do_ that; the moon could _literally_ explode tomorrow for all he knows. “I guess these things take time and, I mean, Jack wasn’t in the best of health.”

Felicity growled. “Look, just getting to the robotics department is about half the Drakensburg and who knows what sort of backtracking we’ll have to do in its current state of disrepair. Getting to the facility, clearing it out, repairing the components…and to top it off, I have no idea the complexity of the robots we’re making. I’m…” Felicity took a deep breath. “If my initial calculations are anywhere near accurate…we’ll need four or five times that to save the moon.”

\----

“Hello? Vault hunter?”

Timothy’s head snapped up from where it was clutched in existential despair. “Um, yeah, hello?”

“Jack? God dammit, we’ve been trying to get in contact with you for hours!” An angry female voice crackled through his com.

“No! I mean, I can see why you’re confused, but, uh, I’m not Jack? Boss is currently passed out in the Meriff’s office.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” The angry woman growled out. “The name’s Lilith, and we’ve got a little proposition for you.”

\----

“Felicity?”

“I’m in the middle of, ugh, Helios has so much unimportant data on it I don’t know why they _don’t_ have an AI to manage that floating scrap heap!”

“I’ve, uh, I might have something that puts things kinda in our favor.”

“Any news is good news, I suppose.” Felicity grumbled. “I have to dig out Jack’s administrator passwords to even find things about the laser. I mean, seriously, what would happen if he was taken out of commission or, I don’t know, just forgot them!”

“I have some people meeting me at the Titan Facility.”

That seemed to surprise her. “What sort of people?”

“Actual vault hunters! Apparently Moxxi had them help us, you know, with everyone’s life being at stake and everything. Lilith said that they didn’t know much about robotics, so we might have to fly Jack out there, but with three people working on clearing out the facility?” Timothy sighed happily. “Hell, I might not even be shot at too bad!”

“I can see how that would be beneficial…” Felicity began, tone dubious. “but why now? Surely the stakes haven’t changed and it’s not like the laser fire has been subtle. After all, it’s not shaking the moon’s surface so much that a human can perceive it, but you can see the lightshow from Concordia. Extra help is only good so long as they aren’t wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

“Look, not that I want to get stabbed in the back or anything, but seriously, what would anyone on Elpis gain from stopping us?”

“I don’t know.” Felicity admitted. “But you should never trust a vault hunter; people always talk about them as if they are noble adventurers, but never forget that they are mercenaries first and foremost, and ones willing to take big gambles.”  Timothy thought that was all he was going to get from her, but she piped up one last time. “And don’t trust that hussy Moxxi; for a woman who’s been on the fringes of every major event in Pandora for the last twenty years, there’s suspiciously little information about her. Zarpedon was highly suspicious of her; you’d do well to follow that advice.”

\----

“I’ve finally decoded Jack’s systems.”

Luckily, Felicity had pinged him while he was driving and not too close to a Shuggurath den.

“Any luck?”

“Not yet; his files are almost as big a jumble as Helios itself and his filing system is nonexistent! Not to mention the fact that most of his file names look like he fell asleep in his keyboard.” Felicity huffed in frustration. “It’s just- how much do you _actually_ know about Jack?”

“Hardly anything.” Timothy admitted. “I mean, I know he’s a bit of an asshole, and, urg,” Timothy blushed. “Kind of a kinky one at that, but, uh, he’s a pretty good programmer, and maybe he doesn’t take care of himself like he should.” Timothy grimaced. “To be fair, though, the interview was sort of more like a kidnapping and they always made it seem like answers were just right around the corner.”

“It’s just…have you ever thought about what you would do if you needed to leave his employ?”

“Uh, no? A guy with money enough to burn on a doppelgänger, and the surgery was pretty fucking extensive, let me tell you…little old me isn’t getting that far.” Timothy frowned. “Seriously, Felicity, I’ve just about made my peace with all of this. You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Timothy, it’s just-“ She took a deep breath. “Look, all I’m saying is that after you all return to Helios…I’m not sure he’ll let you come down again. Does the word ‘Angel’ mean anything to you?”

Timothy furrowed his brow. “Umm…I don’t think so?”

“Then for your sake, I hope it never does.”

\---

     Getting to the train station was actually a simple matter; he remembered The Flats being a big pain, but after The Outlands, anything with a car was heavenly. Sure, the moon buggies kinda handled like a bitch, but surprisingly, he’s there before Felicity is done with her calculations. At this point, he and the boys were taking pot shots at the Rathyds. Left and Right were neck in neck, which Timothy supposed shouldn’t be surprising, and Timothy has killed maybe five of the couple dozen or so bird-things littering the ground. Give Timothy a bandit and he’s fine; shove wings them and Timothy is fucked.

Timothy idly switched his aim from the Rathyds to a moon buggy zooming towards them, about the third so far, but the bright red color and a screamed “What the hell?” has Timothy shoving his pistol away.

The moon buggy screeched to a stop a foot before them, a red headed, -aw, hell- hot woman glaring up at him.

“Okay, to be fair, you didn’t say you were on your way!” Timothy raised his hands in self-defense.

“Let it go, Lilith.”  Came a voice from the passenger seat. The guy sounded tired. “You can’t blame him, when you drive like a bandit.”

“Hey!” Lilith snapped. “You’re sleeping on the floor tonight!”

The man got out. “We’re _all_ sleeping on the floor tonight, Lil.” He was shorter than Timothy by a couple or so inches and looking every inch a soldier. Timothy would feel a bit insecure about himself next to the guy, but he also looked like he never had a day of fun in his life. “The name’s Roland.” They shook hands, and while it wasn’t a one-upping sort of handshake, Timothy still had to try not to wince at Roland’s grip. “This is my girlfriend, Lilith.”

“I’m, uh…well, I guess you’re in on it; My name’s Timothy, Jack’s body double.”

“Why does Jack need a body double?” Lilith asked suspiciously, leaning against the vehicle.

Timothy shrugged. “No idea. I mean, I’d ask, but A, I’ve been mostly focusing on stopping the moon from exploding and C,” Timothy shuddered. “the less time spent around Jack the better, trust me.”

“Is he that bad?” Roland asked over his shoulder, pulling a pack out of the back of the moon buggy.

“Well. It’s just…he’s brilliant and he’s always got a plan…but he’s a bit of an asshole.” Somehow that didn’t feel like it conveyed Jack accurately, but on the other hand, anything else he might have said would have made Jack sound like the worst guy for the job, and neither of them needed that.

“So what’s with the…green guys?” Lilith hadn’t moved and was just watching Timothy warily while Roland kitted out.   
            “Oh,” Timothy turned to look at them. “These are my helpers. That’s Left and he’s Right.” Right gave a little wave, but Left looked back at Lilith with the same amount of scrutiny. “They don’t talk much, but they’re good in a fight.”

“And our AI?”

“Felicity’s running some calculations at the moment, so we’re waiting for that before we storm the facility. She explained it…but it all honestly goes over my head.” Timothy admitted sheepishly.  

Roland nodded. “As long as someone understands, that’s fine; a good leader knows how to delegate.”

Lilith grinned, her teeth gleaming. “You just don’t want to admit you have no idea what Tannis talks about.”

Roland just grunted, but Timothy can see a hint of a blush under his dark skin.  

“Timothy.”

“One second, Felicity.” He shot the vault hunters an apologetic smile and stepped away. He didn’t see the way Lilith glared at him, suspicion evident in every line of her body. “Okay, shoot.”

“The Vault Hunters are already here, then?” Felicity asked quietly.

“Yeah, I…I’m not sure what I think about them yet, but I guess they’re mostly here for backup.”

“Keep an eye out.” Felicity cautioned. ”But I was calling you with an update. The laser, as it turns out, was built with mining in mind. I do have a notation here for a highly experimental laser weapon that Harold Tassiter, the Hyperion CEO, declined. He seems to decline a lot of Jack’s pet projects, but honestly, most of them are either high risk, extremely experimental, or just plain stupid. Not sure how he got so high up in the company with such an animosity with his CEO, but there you go.”

“I think I’d be surprised, but, uh, if drinking enough coffee to kill an elephant and not sleeping for three days is normal for him…” Timothy blinked rapidly. God, what would that even _feel_ like? Of course Timothy’s pulled all-nighters before and he gave up by day two and a half, but even then his body had collapsed on him a couple of times. “I, uh, don’t want to think of what sort of ideas he comes up with.”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” She should have said it sardonically, but there’s something…weird in her voice, something a little too serious. “I’ve run my calculations, however.”

 Timothy perked up. “Yeah?”

“All I can figure in, at the moment, is the point in time in which the laser hits Elpis’ core. In this time frame, we must reclaim the robotics department in the Titan Production Facility, make any necessary repairs, build our robot army, and go to Helios and wrest control of the laser from Zarpedon.”

“And, uh, you can’t take over the laser from here?”

“No; one of Dahl’s main opponents here in the Epimetheus System was the Atlas Corporation. While it would typically be traitorous of me to say, Atlas is extremely more adept at technological warfare than Dahl, and in order to combat that, Dahl has invested heavily into technological advances and-you’re not listening, are you?”

Timothy jumped, eyes snapping back into focus. “No, no, I am!”

Felicity sighed. “Look, Dahl has extremely advanced jamming capabilities and airtight security systems. I can sift through Helios’ data, no problem, however, wherever Zarpedon has spliced in Dahl tech is like running into a brick wall.”

“But…I mean, you’re a Dahl AI.”

“It’s not like I’m uncompromisable, Timothy. I’m not sure that Atlas has that capability, but it was more than Dahl wanted to risk.” Felicity was quiet for a beat. “I suppose their fears weren’t unfounded; I suppose I am going in direct opposition to Dahl forces.”

“Felicity…”

“Look, I’ve made my piece with it. I don’t like it, but…the Zarpedon I knew would not have put innocent lives at risk. She wouldn’t have, not with-“ Felicity cleared her throat. “I have to assume that whatever they found…that it did something to them, something…strange and that they are no longer my men.”

“Were you…friends?”

“Zarpedon had no friends. But, then I suppose I didn’t either. But I did respect her; she was clever, and effective under fire, and was an excellent commander. Perhaps….perhaps I did consider her a friend…but in retrospect I think she rather would have blown the ship instead of wasting time to save me if she ship was lost to opposing forces.”

“That’s awful!” It sounded like such a stupid thing to say, but what was he going to do, threaten to kill Zarpedon again?

“She would have called in pragmatic.” Felicity sighed. “But that is over and done with now. You better call over your vault hunters so I only have to relay this once to you and once to Jack.”

Lilith and Roland hurry over the minute Timothy calls them over and he feels sort of bad, but Felicity is _his_ friend, after all.

“You have our estimate.” Roland says in lieu of an introduction.

“Yes.” Felicity said shortly. “While I cannot, at this point, determine a timetable, I have determined the laser will hit the moon’s core in four months.”

Timothy’s knees felt weak from relief.

“I suspect our timeframe will still be a bit tight, however, if we hurry, it should be manageable.”

“That’s, honestly, more than I was hoping for.” Roland said. “We better get a move on, then; the sooner we save Elpis, the better.”

“Timothy, if you would please plug me into the train terminal upstairs; you three have a train to catch.”

\---    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I forget about Lilith and Roland? Yes, yes I did.


	12. Siren's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have really been on a roll...so of course this chapter kicked my butt. Felt like I was fighting with it the whole time, but I'm waaay happier with it than I expected so yay.

Timothy would like to say that he didn’t make a complete dork of himself on the train over, but, uh, in what universe would that be likely? He feels awkward around the pair of them, trying not to stare too long at Lilith’s tattoos, wondering what they meant and how much it had hurt. The whole situation, though, really hammered home how little time he spent around people. He doesn’t know how to talk to them, doesn’t know how to interact with Left and Right around them. The guys seem interested in Lilith, which Timothy doesn’t know how to chastise them for, doesn’t know if he should. Right seemed to be just as interested in Lilith’s tattoos as Timothy, but Left….well, Left has always been a suspicious, yet protective, bastard.

They ask him a couple of questions, where he’s been, what jobs he’s been on, how had his last vault hunting tip had fallen through, that sort of thing. Timothy wasn’t sure how much information to give out, Lilith’s slowly growing derision and Roland’s poorly concealed pity had Timothy shutting up pretty quick.

It’s kinda amazing how rapidly disenchanted he is about working with other people.

—-

 

“This is where we’re building an army?” Lilith asked, looking around with a look of disgust. Honestly, Timothy couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t expecting a military product plant to be so...lumpy.

“I’m not sure what you were expecting; according to the train logs, this place was most likely abandoned during The Crackening, and it looks like Elpis reclaims its land with little fuss.”

Timothy saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Scuttling, green movement. His gun is out of his hand before he had a chance to think about it. “What the hell was that?” Right stepped forward into the transportation hub, customary shotgun held at the ready.

At the motion, ungodly hissing erupted from the burrows.

“Torks,” Lilith said calmly, nonchalantly pulling out a SMG. “You’re not gonna pass out this time on me, Roland?”

“That was just one time!”

But Timothy isn’t even looking at Roland, isn’t processing a damn thing, because Lilith starts to _glow_. It’s her tattoos that glow the brightest, a brilliant, almost eye-searing purple that brightens to envelope her. She goes, strangely, translucent for a second, sort of how the Digi-Jacks were back at the beginning, but then she disappeared entirely from existence.

“She’ll be back.” Roland yelled over the gunfire. Timothy jerked out of his trance, and glanced at the soldier. “Siren powers.” He says in lieu of an explanation. “Freaks everyone out the first time.”

Just as Timothy was actually readying himself to become useful, a flash erupted in the middle of the Tork pile where they surrounded the Digi-Jacks. Timothy flinches, and while the light isn’t quite enough to blind him, the shockwave trips him up, knocking Torks out of the way and sending debris tumbling, but Timothy couldn’t feel it as it imperceptibly passed through him. Lilith stood in the middle of the sphere of chaos, gun out and her eyes glowing. “This is what happens when you fight an apex predator!”

Its quick work to put down the dazed Torks, between the five of them, the job was done in under a minute.

“Let’s see if you can catch up!” Lilith was gone in a brilliant flash.

Roland sighed. “And this is why I miss Brick and Mordecai.”

\---

Timothy can’t help but be impressed by the vault hunters. At this point, Timothy was pretty competent, but he has nothing on _them_. Roland is so fucking cool under fire, equally as good as the digi-Jacks, but _Lilith_ ….if it was just her Inexplicable powers that would be enough, but she’s just as handy with a gun; a lot more blasé than Roland, but also less disciplined. They tear through the infestation and he’s not sure Lilith even cares about finding a working terminal to plug in Felicity, not with her whoops of delight

\---.

Felicity leads them through the industrial complex, apparently using old maps from her servers. Not that Timothy could tell what anything did or what was made there; Felicity mentions in passing that it’s the Stingray building facility, but it all looked like Junk to Timothy . He doesn’t like to think how long it would have taken with just the three of them.  They don’t make it to the robot facility by evening, but it’s not like they got started first thing in the morning, either.

—-

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Timothy nearly dropped his gun from where he was cleaning it. No one had quite settled down for the night; Right was helping Roland make a rough and ready stew that smelled miles better than anything Timothy had whipped up in the field. He was hoping that Right was learning how to make it, though it probably would be wasteful to make just for himself. Left had pulled out some of Timothy’s tattered clothes and was mending them, glancing up at Lilith from time to time. Lilith was idly painting her nails a fiery red; completely incongruous in a room you could see the stars through.

“What?” Timothy tried to ask surreptitiously, nonchalantly putting his gun aside, but Lilith and Roland glanced at him too casually.

“Felicity left her message and said you had a couple of vault hunters with you?”

“Yeah, boss.” Timothy leaned against a far wall. “We’ve made really good progress, but we haven’t found a way for Felicity to plug herself in.”

“Moxxi’s a bit of a bitch, but she knows people; besides, they’re _those_ vault hunters.”

“Those?”

“Have you seriously lived under a rock, princess?” Timothy tried to protest that he had been busy _becoming_ Jack, but the guy just carried on. “They’re two of the only four vault hunters to ever _find_ a vault. Well, and come out to tell the tale.”

“Are vaults really that...dangerous?” Timothy had wondered why everyone had called him a Vault Hunter with a measure of respect.

“Ask them some time. But yeah; it’s not so much finding it as dealing with the guardians inside. Saw the smoldering corpse myself; something out of a fucking comic book, that’s for damn sure. So much fucking potential...but that fucking dick Tassiter hates _progress-_ “Jack broke off. “Not important. Any more updates, kiddo?”

“Nope.” Timothy sighed. “We’ve been looking for a terminal for Felicity to plug herself into, but these fucking Torks just seem to like wiring.”

Jack growled. “So, Okay, pest control goes on the list of more impossible things to do.”

“Yeah, we’re in the middle of the of Stingray section. We’d probably be there if we didn’t have to take the long way, it then again, we wouldn’t want to take away Lilith's fun.” Timothy tried for wry, but he thinks he ended up somewhere slightly hysteric.

“Speaking of Lilith...not work related, but have you seen her do the crazy magic stuff?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing! Okay, sort of terrifying and it makes no sense, but cool.”

“Ask her about it.” It’s a weird request, not just because Jack so far has cared little other than getting back to Helios, but there’s something odd about it, like he’s revealed too much and he’s trying too hard to cover it up. “You know there’s only six sirens in the whole universe? Something leads them to Pandora. Must be some connection...but, ya know, people make up all sorts of stories.”

“Right.” Timothy said noncommittally, desperately hoping that Jack doesn’t call him out on it.

“Hmm. I’ll keep in touch. Send me the coordinates when you hit the robotics department’s shuttle station. Things probably should be sorta in order by the time that fucking rickety barge gets there.”

“You’re...heading over, boss?” Shit shit _shit_. Jack was enough of a fucking trial yammering over _comms_.

He almost asked about Jack’s health. _Almost_. But he did some thinking, out in the Flats when he was killing time, trying to profile his boss in an idle hope that he’d actually get to do the job he signed up for. Timothy hadn’t heard a fucking thing about Jack having physical issues; he didn’t have any of the scars, nothing that signified anything other than a completely healthy guy. He kinda wished he could have seen whatever meds Jack was on in the dark room, because then Timothy might have been able to figure out what condition he had...not important. What was important was that Jack was a very proud guy, which was sort of surprising with the cutesy pet names and the laid-back attitude. The more he thought about it, the more Timothy had to believe that no matter what happened, no matter if Helios was fine and he did his job as planned, that Timothy would still only figure it out by finding Jack passed out on the floor. Bringing it up, maybe ever, would probably be the last thing from good.  

“How else am I supposed to tell you what the fuck to do? ‘Sides, might have to alter things depending on what we find and, no offense, kitten, but I sure as shit don’t expect you to know a capacitor from a motherboard.”

“A what?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah. That’s the reason right there.” Timothy scowled at the ceiling. “Well, sleep tight, don’t let the bed besties bite, oh, and don’t die. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Thanks.” Timothy said dryly, but the line was already dead.

—-

“So...how does that all...work?” Timothy asked Lilith the next morning as they were rummaging through the ruins. Right popped up from where he was sorting ammo, head tilted in Lilith’s direction. Maybe he should have waited, seen if she had overheard his and Jack’s conversation, but now that Jack had put the question there, it was hard to ignore it.

Lilith looked at Timothy for a long moment, before shrugging. “Hard to explain. I mean, trust me; I’ve tried. By its nature, my powers mess with any sensor intricate enough to measure it.”

“You’re a scientist?”

“Nah,” Lilith said. “Wanted to be when I grew up, but freaky powers kinda put an end to what _I_ wanted to do with my life.”

Timothy blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

Lilith shrugged. “It’s a lot of things; Science equipment goes on the fritz around me, tattoos aren’t ‘professional’, but’s let’s ignore the fact that I was _born_ with them…but it’s also more than that.” Lilith’s gaze turned far away. “When you use the powers, right...you enter this other world, this other dimension. It’s...not that different than ours; it’s kinda like peering into our world from...somewhere else. It’s not that even that weird; it mostly looks like a ghost version of this world. It’s kinda weird the first couple of times, but it’s not anything you can’t get used to. But when you’re there...there’s sort of this...song? It’s...it’s not a song. I don’t know what it is, but it thrums, like something living through your bones.” Lilith shuddered. “It’s strongest on Pandora, terrible and beautiful and when it goes away...it’s like you lose apart of yourself, like you’re only whole in those brief moments.”

“That sounds…” Timothy began hesitantly.

“What do you know?” Lilith snapped, teeth bore. She seemed to snap out of it when Timothy flinched hard enough to land on his ass.  “You can’t understand.” Lilith said, anger fermenting into bitterness. “And the only other siren I’ve met got herself eaten by the Destroyer. I guess there’s a new one out there somewhere, some new little girl that’ll get bullied until she snaps”

—-

Perhaps it’s unfair to worry about Lilith; she’s obviously a grown woman, one that can more than take care of herself. And yet….and yet...when he watched her come out of her Phasewalk, she looked...slightly wrong. He doesn't know how to put it, isn’t sure what’s wrong precisely, but the way that she just _smiles_ a tad too wide….Even thinking about her talk of whatever that song was gave him chills.

He thought about asking Roland about it, but he couldn’t quite find the nerve. Timothy supposed Roland knew his girlfriend was potentially insane, but if _he_ had to be the one to say something...yeah, Timothy was _not_ going to be the idiot in that position.

\---

“I’m...ah, getting a distress signal?” Felicity

“From where?” Roland asked. It’s almost annoying how Roland just automatically assumed leadership, but it’s hard for Timothy to complain, isn’t sure what he would complain about, because it’s not like Roland has made any questionable calls.

“Up ahead, just passed the docking platform. Patching you in now.”

“-elp. Please. Helios? Where _is_ everyone? Phil, man, _please_ I need extracted!” It was a man, a native of Elpis, by the sound of it. He seemed frantic, but like someone who had been frantic so long he reached a sort of demented calm.

“Hello?” Felicity asked cautiously.

“Yes, hello!” Clattering could be heard over the speaker. “Thank god! I’ve been out here for days, bruv! Not sure how much longer I can hold them off.”

“Well, it seems like you’re in luck; we’re not precisely from Helios, but we do happen to be less than a hundred feet from your location.” Felicity said smoothly.

“We?” The guy squeaked. Timothy hoped he didn't sound like that.

“A scavenging party including two Vault hunters, myself, another split AI, and Timothy.”

Timothy winced, but he wasn’t sure he could blame her. “Felicity…”

“It’s not like you have any real affiliations or official title, do you? Not to say you haven’t been doing just fine, but you do defy easy explanation.”

“I guess…” Timothy mumbled.

“Well, I’m mighty glad to hear it! Don’t much care who you are, so long as you don’t wanna keep me captive like these Scavs.” It was almost worrying how cheerful the guy sounded.

“Jesus, kiddos, we don’t got time to pick up after every stray.” Jack crackled over their comms.

“Look,” Roland said, deadly quiet. “I understand where you’re coming from; I don’t want anything bad to happen to Elpis, either, but this is a man in need, and we’re in a position to help him.”

“It doesn't hurt that he’s between us and our goal.” Felicity chimed in wryly. “And we have to kill the scavs anyway, make the world a better place, that sort of thing.”

“The way’s clear if he wants to run,” Lilith added. “No one said anything about escorting him back to Concordia.”

“We only killed the Torks that happened to be there.” Timothy mused. “It’s can’t be a clear way through. No way.”

“Just do what you gotta, but we gotta start making our awesome robot army ASAP.” Jack grumbled before signing off.

  ---

_Shit_ that had been the toughest fight of this place yet. Not that Timothy had been overly concerned about his life, but he did nearly have a close call looking down past the walkways and getting queasy. Timothy wiped sweat from his brow as he caught his breath; damn, but Lilith and Roland looked barely winded. He would like nothing more than to rest for the next half an hour, but he dragged himself over to the far door.

Timothy banged the door a couple of times. “All clear.”

The guy easily looks like he could have been one of Timothy’s math professors, back when he was in college; one of those guys who's really, really smart, but equally bad at people and has never managed to go on a date in his entire life. Timothy tried not to draw parallels. It’s not that the guy is bad looking, but the way his eyes darted around to avoid meeting Timothy’s eyes said more than enough.

“Am I glad to see you! Here I was, doing some help-yourself exploring, working on a pet project I've been cooking up, when the scavs swept in, about to cut me up bad, when I persuaded them I'm a medic. I _am_ a doctor, but more the ‘Hyperion R &D’ kind.” The guy just said it all in a rush, almost like he rehearsed it; kinda fair, considering who knows how long he’d been talking his way out of certain death.

Timothy was about to say something, hopefully helpful and not something stupid like asking if those bizarre goggle were functional or a fashion statement, but Jack hijacks his speaker. “You’re from Hyperion, kid?” Timothy had to wince at Jack’s use of pet names even in times like these. Timothy can hear Roland and Lilith stomp up behind him.

“Uh, Yeah, bruv. Name’s Gladstone Katoa, D Division.  Uh, I work on experimental tech”

“Oh, D Division?” Jack’s voice crackled. “That's where they hide all the brainiacs who work on all the super-secret awesome stuff, right?”

“Uh, Yeah. How...how d’ya know all that, anyway?” Gladstone started to get fidgety.

“Uh, because I freakin’ run the space station.” Jack said waspishly.

“Oh! Sorry! It’s, uh…John?”

“Jack!” He snarled, so violently the com screeched. “The name. Is _Jack_.”

“Right!” Gladstone squeaked, flinching.

“Whatever. We saved you, three cheers and all that, but these kiddos here have to get going so, uh, see ya.”

“Wait. You’re going to let me go? Out _there_?” The weedy guy started trembling. “I don't even have a gun!”

Roland winced, but all the protests he had earlier were conspicuously absent. Lilith was already moving past him.

Oh, hell. “Look, we...we’re in a, uh, a _really_ big hurry and it’s really, _really_ important. Like, the moon will explode if don’t get a move on.”

 Gladstone’s eyes got round. “The laser….” he breathed.

“Yeah, so...we don’t have time to help you get back, but, uh, if you can duck out of the way, we’re headed to the robot production plant and there should be a shuttle station there. After that...Helios is…” Timothy fished for words. “It’s under enemy control and right now the safest place is Concordia.”

Weirdly, the guy brightened. “Oh, if you’re going to the robot plant, I’ll tag along then, bruv. I was working on a project before the scavs nabbed me.”

“And what,” Jack suddenly cut in. “is a cutie like you, straight from R&D, working on in a place like _that_?”

Timothy grimaced. Seriously, this fucking guy. “Boss-“

“Can it, princess.” Jack snapped. “Well, Gladstone Katoa?”

Gladstone shuffled, looking flustered despite himself. “Um, I was working on my prototype; an easy build, all-around construction bot that doubles as security when they’re done building.”

“Gladstone, kitten, I think you might have just solved 90 percent of my problems.”

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real excited to figure out where this is going! SO many more turns than I was expecting, but with Gladstone...we finally have all of the cast for a little something I like to call Waltz for Pandora :) :) :)


	13. Juggling the Absolutely Necessary

“Hey! Timothy, right?” Gladstone jogged wearily up to Timothy, but despite his obvious exhaustion, the guy appeared pretty chipper.

Left tried to step in between them, but relented when Timothy put a placating hand on his arm. “Yep. That’s me.”

“I just...I wanted to say thank, bruv, you know...for sticking your neck out for me.”

Timothy shrugged. “Well it’s something I’d like done for me...and, ya know, six months ago I’d be worse off than you in that situation, so….I dunno.”

Gladstone laughed. Well, he tried to laugh; it came out more of a wheeze. “Look, you don’t have to make me feel better, mate. Not a vault hunter like you.”

Timothy shook his head violently. “Nah, man. I barely had gun training when I set foot on Elpis. Vault hunter is just the convenient lie Jack cooked up. I’d be dead without these guys.” Right shot Gladstone a couple of finger guns from his position ahead, while Left glared disapprovingly at Timothy.

“Really?” Timothy hadn’t even noticed that Roland had been listening. “And that was the day the laser started firing?”

“Yeah. We had to bail when Helios was taken over.”

Gladstone’s eyes grew wide. “That’s amazing!”

Timothy winced; even Roland looked like he approved. “Look, I mean….I was just trying not to die, okay? Besides,” he asked Left. “How many times have you guys saved me?” Left gestured broadly, as if to say that a number that large wouldn’t mean anything.

“What kinda tech are they?” Gladstone asked, looking between the two holograms. “They look really advanced.”

Right thumped his chest, as if to say ‘you wanna go, bro?”

“Look, no offense,” Felicity chimed in. “But AI don’t particularly _like_ being treated like a piece of tech lying around; just because we’re not all delicate and fleshy doesn’t mean we aren’t people.”

Gladstone, to his credit, looked chagrined. “Sorry, Miss. I’ve  never actually met an AI; they’re very rare on Elpis and, well, Hyperion is awesome in a lot of ways, but they do have a pretty strict ‘no AI’ policy.”

Timothy frowned, and him and the Digi-Jacks shared a look. “How, uh, how strict is this AI policy?” Timothy asked cautiously.

“Well, on the one hand, pretty strict, but on the other,if you’ve _actually_ made one, companies will jump over themselves to hire you. Why? Thinking of signing on with Hyperion?”

“Makes you wonder what Jack’s game is, doesn’t it?” Felicity murmured into Timothy’s com. He wanted to respond to her, but he wasn’t sure how much they really should let Gladstone know.

“Look, man, I’m just trying to save the moon. Whatever happens next happens, ya know?” Timothy paused. “Okay, that’s is what got me into this mess in the first place,  but you know.”

“No, I get it, bruv; try working in D division. Most of the time the guys aren’t trying to sabotage you, but you never know when thing change up, who’s vanished overnight, what areas are blocked off. Occasionally they even shut down all of R & D if something from H division gets out.”

Suddenly, Lilith exploded out of phasewalk. Gladstone nearly yelled, but LEft reached out to cover his mouth. To be fair, though, Timothy still jumped. “Hostiles ahead. Get ready to take out scavs.” And then she vanished again.

Gladstone turned a little pale, hesitatingly pulling out the little pistol they had scavenged for him. He took a deep breath. “I’ll go...hide.”

—-

Gladstone spent a lot of time talking to Jack. Not that Timothy really understood; most of the time it sounds like they’re going over the technical side of the plans, but Felicity was unusually quiet. It made him wonder what exactly they were planning and what it had to do with Felicity.

It’s not that Gladstone was really trying to hide whatever they were talking about; as a matter of fact Lilith snapped at him a couple of times for being too loud. No, it's more that Timothy knows fuck all about engineering or programming.

—-

Timothy looked around, trying to not be obvious. Him and the guys were on looting duty, once it became obvious how effective the three of them were at it. Lilith and Roland were scouting ahead and Gladstone was pacing back and forth, planning excitedly with Jack.

“Felicity?” Timothy asked quietly.

“Timothy.” Felicity Replied, just as quietly.

“Juggling all of this has been harder than I imagined.” Timothy sighed.

“Yes, I know what you mean.” Felicity sounded more tired than he had ever heard her. “I just...I need you to do something for me.”

Timothy blinked. “Sure, Felicity.”

“Two things. First, unless it is absolutely necessary, do not mention Pickle.”

“What? Why?”

“I just...he’s a kid. The less we draw him into this interplanetary mess, the better. His security was exceptional for deterring scavs, but we’re dealing with soldiers trained in technological warfare. As far as I can tell, jack has already forgotten about the scamp, so we’re good on that end. The second...don’t let jack know how advanced the boys are becoming.”

If Felicity’s warning about Pickle makes him nearly nauseous with worry, then this made Timothy’s blood run cold. “But...but, Felicity...he made them, he’s doing their updates...I mean, sure, I could _lie_ to him, but wouldn’t he know I was lying?”

“He’s focused on his robots, and if that fit was anything like you told me...I think he can easily be distracted. I don’t think he’ll check their code, not with everything going on.”

“Yeah, but if they need updates-“

“I can do it.” Felicity insisted. “I’ve already downloaded and stored everything Jack has on them on the Drakensburg. Which is not as secure as I’d like, however, finding a more secure location for my server room will have to wait until Elpis is sorted. I just-“ Felicity exhaled explosively. “If jack gets interested in them again...I believe it would only be a matter of time before he takes them away from you.”

Timothy squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t like this. I really, _really_ don’t like this”

“I know, Timothy. But, look, everyone here has their own goals and reasons for tagging along. As far as I can calculate, these two factors should have no impact on saving the moon. Please...let me do my job. Let me take care of all of you. I can’t...I can’t stand losing another crew.”

“I don’t like lying to Jack, but...maybe you’re right.” Because, fuck, if they had their own personalities, how different would jack see them from Timothy? And if jack saw them on the same level as _Timothy_ …? “I don’t see how it could really hurt him, either.”

—-

“We’re coming up to the Robot Production Plant.” Felicity warned. Timothy had been               Hoping for those words for an hour now. The bandits had been steadily increasing in concentration . There were less Torks, wich at first Timothy had been perfectly happy about, but now that they were firmly back into bandit territory, flighting those stupid insects was much preferable. The bugs were Jumpy as hell, but the guys targeting program was pretty awesome. It wasn’t to the point yet that Timothy had to dip into his medical bay haul, but the hypos were just keeping up with his injuries. Of course, it might have to do with the fact that Lilith was popping them like a junky because, _apparently_ , real armor got in the way of her Phasewalk.

“I thought this was looking familiar.” Gladstone said, looking around. Not that he should, with bandits popping out at any given moment at this point. If Timothy thought _he_ was an unlikely soldier, he’s not sure that even the Digi-Jacks would save Gladstone on his own. “There was only the occasional Tork here when we came here.”

“Badass incoming.” Left growled. Timothy hastily readied his gun. Even as his hands flew through the motions, he idly noted that this was the first time he had talked since that morning.

Timothy had just enough time to ready himself before oversized hanger doors slid open. Well, he thought it was oversized until the freakin’ robots stepped out.

“Power suits!” Gladstone yelped at the same time the machine gun attached to the suit’s arm opened fire.

Timothy dived for Gladstone, praying that between his shield and the guys he’s last through the barrage. Luckily, whoever was controlling the damn thing was a sprayer and prayer, because the gun barely stayed on them.

“Go!” Timothy hauled Gladstone up by the arm, dragging him to the nearest cover. Cover being a relative term, as more bandits poured in from behind them. He could hear Gladstone whimpering behind him as took in the battlefield.

“Protect the scientist!” Jack yelled unhelpfully over the com. “We can’t get the facility running without him!”

“Let me fucking do my job, boss!” Timothy snapped at him. “Right, cover Gladstone.” The hologram nodded. “Left, c’mon, lets weed out some of these bandits before they flank us.”

——

“Anyone dead?” Jack Crackled over the com. “Well, anyone other than bandit scum, obviously.”

“Why are you such an asshole?” Timothy sighed tiredly from his crouch.

“It’s called charm, sweetheart. Gotta get used to it, pumpkin.”

“Yeah, yeah, as long as you let me rest for five fucking minutes.” Timothy grumbled.

Even Lilith and Roland looked winded. Timothy had only gotten over to them to take out the last of the three power suits and at that point Lilith was obviously flagging. It should have been worrisome, but it honestly made her look deranged and wild. What the fuck were these Sirens, anyway?

“You’re gonna need more than five minutes with me around, princess.”

Timothy let out an ungodly noise and gave up, flopping down on the hard floor, throwing  his comm with feeling. “Fuck, I hate that guy.” Left frowned deeply at him, but went after the com.

“Was he-?” Roland huffed, baffled, showing something other than determined professionalism.

Lilith just cackled.

“Nope!” Timothy nearly shouted. “Not talking about that!”

—-

Inside, the robot plant looked completely different from the outside. True, the closer they got to their goal, the less Tork nests appeared, but this was the first time they had found anywhere without the lumpy structures.

True to Jack’s word, a shuttle station and docking bay were right inside the door. It’s just a matter of having Felicity send over the ID code, and Timothy would ask if Gladstone was sure about staying, but the guy is already speeding ahead with Lilith and Roland. Not that Timothy would have any alternative plan if Gladstone did leave, but trapping him here? Just how much were they going to sacrifice to save the moon?

Timothy should hurry on ahead and catch up with them. He should, but even remotely private moments have been hard to find. “We doing okay, guys?” Timothy asked the holograms.

Right nodded. “Lotta guns. Lilith cool.” Timothy gaped. He had noticed a slight mechanical edge taking over their programming; nothing too obvious, but Timothy had been worried as hell. Not that it had been going on long enough or extreme enough for Timothy to probe Felicity about it, but he had been close.

“Dangerous.” Left added, his voice a deeper warning rumble. “Unstable.”

Timothy pinched himself. Yep. Hurt like a bitch.

“Flashy!” Right said with a grin.

“Crowded.” Left grumbled sourly.

Right nodded with a sigh.

“I know.” Timothy felt somewhat like he had entered some strange, alternate universe, perhaps got dragged through whatever portal Lilith was using.  “I wish I could say I’d be over soon, but, fuck, It’s only gonna be a matter of time before Jack shows up and he’s tiring enough for five people.”

“Don’t like Jack?” Left asked, frown tugging at his lips, taking a step towards Timothy.

“It’s-“ fuck, Timothy was blushing. His holograms were talking and of course _this_ is what they had to ask about. “I, uh, don’t know how to explain it to you? He...let’s say he doesn’t act like a boss should act and, uh, it makes me uncomfortable, but, like, I can’t blow him off either.” The digi-Jacks’ faces harden. “No! I mean...I can handle him. It’s just...the less time spent around him, the better. I plan on us spending a _lot_ of time patrolling the area.”

“Roland is requesting your presence, Timothy.” Felicity interjects, her tone slightly reluctant.

“Shit.” Timothy cursed. “Got it.”

—-

“Gladstone says that all of the facility will need to be cleared in order for the robots to be made.” Roland said without preamble when Timothy jogged up.

“Dahl are dickheads,” Gladstone shrugged. “But they are good at using space effectively.”

“With Jack on the way and the systems requiring attention, you and your sentries stay here with Gladstone and secure the entrance. Lilith and i will clear the area. Felicity?”

“Yes?” She replied smoothly.

“As soon as everything is in order, patch yourself in and see if you can get any of the security working.”

“So...It’s just gonna be me and Timothy?’ Gladstone squeaked.

“We’ll lock the front gate, but after our initial sweep, all you should be left with is stragglers, nothing Timothy can’t handle.” Roland replied smoothly. Timothy for one isnt worried, but it doesn’t even seem mildly reassuring to Timothy.

“It’ll be fine; the guys and I are used to working on our own.” Timothy chipped in. “You two are faster than us, anyway.”

“Well,” Lilith interrupted loudly “That seems. Pretty good for a plan.” She cracked her neck with a sickening noise. “Let’s rumble.”

Gladstone still stared after her when Lilith faded from view. It’s not that its something that you could get used to, but some irrational part of Timothy thinks that it if he stares too long he might just hear whatever song has Lilith wrapped around its claws.

“Want me to help for the initial sweep?”

“We should be fine.” Roland replied, already checking his gun, a good practice with Lilith around. “It’s more important that you get these robots up and running. Keep your comms open; we’ll keep you updated.”

—-

“So I guess it’s just us, bruv.” Gladstone said, slightly awkwardly. To be fair, though; everything Gladstone did was sort of awkward.

“Yep.” And with donning horror, Timothy realized that none of this adventure really changed him the way he was hoping. Sure, around the guys he felt kinda cool and, sure _maybe_ the guys were more badass than him, and, okay, _actual_ vault hunters were supposed to be one of the best of the best, but he had actually thought that this whole ordeal had changed him for the better. But, uh, nope. Around Lilith and Roland, sure, he wasn’t cool, but at least it was business and this business he could talk shop about. Pleasantries, though? When was the last time he had to talk _pleasantries_? “Uh, not to be too weird or anything, but I, uh, better stick pretty close? At least until we get the all clear”

“Uh, sure.”

Timothy can hear Felicity sigh in his ear. “Remind me never to take a job managing an R&D department; I like you, Timothy, I really do, but I think I’d go mad in a building full of socially awkward nerds.”

—-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edit: First time I had to do this (I prefer creative work arounds), but I changed one line in here. just so Gladstone learns of Zarpedon taking control of Helios later. Which I suppose is what happens when you write things out of order, but hey, no biggie.


	14. Pleasantries

The next hour or so had been pretty much silent. Gladstone had found a terminal, but apparently disabling the electrical shielding all the way in the stingray facility had affected the shielding here as well. The wires were chewed to Hell, and Gladstone had dug right in to its innards.

They could hear the sound of Lilith and Roland fighting from time to time, but so far, other than the occasional Tork scout, nothing had crossed Timothy’s path. All in all, despite bandits behind the oversized locked doors, an unknown number of bandits in front of them, Jack incoming and Lilith’s potential insanity, -oh and the moon in peril, though it’s almost an afterthought for Timothy at this point- it was honestly one of the most boring things he had to do yet.  

Even the guys looked bored. Or, well, they looked like they were up to something with Felicity, which was not the same thing at all. Timothy just got to stare at the dim interior.

\---

“So…” Gladstone began after Timothy had announced he was making lunch -freeze dried baked beans, yum- and the scientist had extracted himself from the mess of wires. “I know it’s not really my place, bruv, but...um...you and Jack?” Timothy winced, lucky for him, though, the guys were patrolling the perimeter of the room. “I mean, he was flirting with me, which, I mean,” Gladstone flushed. “I’ll admit, it’s not, ah, normal for a guy like me, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t serious? Which, you know, I’m flattered and all, but, uh, not the way I normally swing, if ya get my drift. I just didn’t want you to think something was up, bruv. ”

Timothy leaned back, laying his frankly unappetizing rations to the side, and stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to fight down a flush. “No, please, if there was something up, trust me, I’d be _more_ than grateful.”

“Whaddya mean?” And, again, Timothy is surprised by the quiet concern in his voice.

“He’s-” God, how did you describe _Jack_? ”I dunno, man.” Timothy looked askance at the scientist. “Keep this between you and me?”

“Sure.” Gladstone pushed his food to the side as well.

“And, um, well, Felicity keeps track of all of our conversations, which, you know, I trust her, but...keep it from the guys?” Timothy asked, glancing at the Digi-Jacks. “I mean,” He shook his head. “I know it might seem kinda dumb to you...but I’d feel a heck of a lot better.”

“Not a problem with me.” Gladstone leaned forward. “And not a peep to Jack.”

“Not sure it matters.” Timothy grimaced. “He- fuck, I’m, like, ninety percent certain that guy has no filter. I’m pretty sure there’s something seriously fucked in his head…” Timothy closed his eyes and shook his head. “He flirts with me. All the damn time. And I don’t...I mean, the only thing I can really do is avoid him as much as possible, but…”

“But we’re practically gonna be living with the guy,” Gladstone realized.

Timothy gritted his teeth. “Which, yeah, is bad enough, but other than this? I’ve got this fucking contract with him. I was actually on my way to go fulfil it when shit went down on Helios.” Timothy shrugged. “I guess I’m the only reason he had help at all. When we’re done here, if it all goes well...fuck, I dunno, I’m gonna spend, like, most of my time around him with no one else for company? I dunno. It’s a pretty fucked up contract, but I was seriously out of options at that point.”  

Gladstone frowned. “Not that I know him very well, but...you sure he knows, bruv? That you’re not into him?”

“Well…” Seriously, Timothy couldn’t believe he was _actually_ having this conversation.  “I mean...no. On the one hand, I’m not sure that he can understand that someone _doesn’t_ want him, but on the other...I mean, apart from the whole genius thing you’ve got going on...I don’t think we’re that different.”

“What? No! You’re- you’re way cooler than I am, bruv!”

Timothy snorted. “Uh, no. Hate to tell you, man, but the highlight of my life was being the main character’s understudies’ understudy in- well, it was just some dumb student written play back in college.” Timothy sighed wistfully. “Man, but I had no standards. Anyway, like I said earlier, all of this gun-toting, moon-saving shtick is….it’s a recent development.” Timothy deflated. “What I’m trying to say….is that I don’t really know how to tell him to stop. I mean, if I was trying to embarrass myself with an over the top declaration of love to someone who had no fucking clue...yeah, then I’d have you covered, but this...?” Timothy reached for his now cold meal. “I just wonder how long it’s gonna be before I sleep with the fucker out of self-defense.” Timothy poked at the beans. “But at that point...would I really even care? I mean, for someone who's never had anyone interested in him, and I do mean _anyone_ ….is Jack really all that bad?”

“You can’t tell me no one-” Gladstone began.

“If you’re talking about the face...you don’t want to _know_ how much fucking plastic surgery this took.” Timothy sighed. “Shit came with the gig too. Eh, but apart from the guys….the surgery is just about the only good thing to come out from this fucking job.”      

“I dunno, bruv,” Gladstone picked up his plate as well. “Seems to me like there should be something more…” Gladstone popped a spoonful of  beans into his mouth and grimaced. “But I haven’t got a clue. Only reason I’m not a virgin is a complete accident.”

Timothy snorted a laugh and Gladstone looked hurt. “No, no, man; I completely understand. For me, I think it was a combination of a bet, too much alcohol, and I’m pretty sure one of the jocks was too _way_ bi-curious for his own fucking good. Well, at least for that little ass end of the galaxy.”

“Pity.” Gladstone said with a sigh. “Mine’s was definitely pity”

“Well, hey,” Timothy said with a laugh. “Maybe this adventure will make men of us yet!”   

—x

AFter that, things with Gladstone went surprisingly smoothly. Timothy’s not exactly sure why things between them are okay in Gladstone’s head, and part of him can’t believe he said all of that shit about Jack, but...it’s okay. It made him wonder if they even really needed to be careful about the guys around Gladstone, but, hmm, he _did_ promise Felicity.

Once he got the all clear for the immediate area and made sure Gladstone had his gun on him and his shield up, Timothy went to secure rooms for them. Who knew how long they were going to be cooped up there, and Timothy was _not_ going to be sharing a room with them, no way in _hell_. It’s not so much that Gladstone was bad to be around or had boundary issues, but, fuck, Timothy was going to need a little relief if he had to be around Jack and not make bad decisions. Of course, he’d be rooming with the Digi-Jacks and even finding alone time around just them had been a little dicey with their extended run time. However, one of the nice things about their extended run time was the extended recharge time and Timothy typically tried to use that to his full advantage in the evenings. Just had to forget about the fact that Felicity was probably accidentally listening in. Not that she probably hadn’t _seen_ worse as a whole fucking ship….but, yeah, no, it was kinda boner-killer to think about and Timothy was nervous enough as it was.

The rooms themselves were a little difficult to find, what with the whole open plan that most factories went for, but he does manage to find three storage room near each other that the boys help him clear out. None of them are particularly big, but Timothy figured they’re mostly just for sleeping and storing their gear. Not that Gladstone had that much, even though they had reclaimed some of his supplies from the bandits. Timothy itched to sneak off to Concordia, partially to just get away from everyone, partially to get Gladstone everything he would need to survive out here. Seriously, Helios hadn’t even sent him with a canteen, for christ’s sake.

Timothy took the smallest room for himself, even though it would be a bit of a squeeze with the Digi-Jacks. Mostly he takes the smallest and leaves Jack with the biggest so the guy doesn’t try to weedle his way into someone else’s, but he really doesn’t mind the Digi-Jacks’ electric presences. It also had the advantages of being the farthest away from Jack’s room, both so Jack can’t hear their chattering and so Jack doesn't hear anything else and get ideas.   

___

“So….out of curiosity...why _did_ you have this prototype thing just lying around?” Timothy asked, handing over a length of wire.

“Oh,” Gladstone blindly grabbed at it. “Well, I’m from Elpis, bruv, and by the sound of it, you’ve seen most of what’s inhabited. Everything we have, we got from Dahl. As a kid, it annoyed me that everything we had was plastered with someone else’s name, but when they up and abandoned us?” Timothy didn’t think the scientist could _be_ so angry. “We had nothing, bruv. Nothing. I mean, I was out of the system when it happened, but...no one should have to learn of their mum- should have to- no one should have to hear of it that way.”

“Mine thinks I’m dead.” Timothy said quietly. “She laughed when they told her. Wish I was surprised.”

“Oh, bruv.” Timothy was surprised by the genuine hurt shining in Gladstone’s eyes.

“No-! I wasn’t…” Timothy shuffled. “Uh, So that got you to build your robots?”

Gladstone looked confused at Timothy rapid change of subject, but allowed it. “Well, I didn’t want my mum to live in a Dahl branded building all her life...but then...after she died, I just...I wasn’t in a good place, I gotta tell you...but I kept thinking ‘what if’, you know?” Gladstone took a deep breath. “But then, when things got a bit better...sure, what happened to my mum was terrible...but then, how many people on Elpis were still going through that? So I got a transfer to get closer to Elpis and worked on it in my spare time. At first I was kinda mad that they wouldn’t fund my project...but this is business, bruv. Silly thing is that I just had to phrase it the right way and suddenly I’m getting all the help I could want.”

“So...it was to help Elpis, to  Allow people build their homes and be safe from bandits.”

Gladstone nodded. “I heard about what happened with The Meriff. I’d like to say I was shocked...but Elpis is pretty backwards, bruv. Before him it was it was just a series of Dahl underlings. Only good thing to happen around here was Zarpedon. I mean, she wasn’t likeable, but she’d actually do something when they got too bad.”

“And look how she turned out.” Felicity added darkly.

“What?” Gladstone peaked his head out from the mess of cables. “Bruv, Zarpedon hasn’t been seen since The Crackening. Some of the locals think she had something to do with it.”

“Yes, well, she just so happened to appear, five years later, by assaulting Helios with my lost crew.” Felicity snapped.

Timothy made a mental note to ask Felicity about Zarpedon later that night.

“Oh.” Gladstone paused for a moment. “That doesn’t sound like the Zarpedon I’m familiar with.”

“No.” Felicity agreed quietly. “Me neither.”

—-

Timothy doesn’t want to be there. He doesn’t like leaving Gladstone on his own, true, but honestly it’s only a nagging worry at the back of his mind. He’s left the guys with Gladstone; it’s probably the first time he’s ever taken them off, but he can’t have them here, even though they fought him hard. Probably the only reason he didn’t get an earful was because they’re still pretending to be basic around Gladstone. It shows how irritated they are at him that they break character anyway, and he can just tell that Gladstone suspects something. He doesn’t like lying to the guy, but he’s stretched between too many obligations.

 It’s bad enough that he’s left his com on, because with the coms comes Felicity, but turning her off is too much of a safety hazard with everyone spread all over the facility. Still, any argument is better kept between him and Felicity, rather than having to explain what any of this means to the guys.

The shuttle pulled into the station and Timothy’s stomach dropped. _Fuck_. He can’t keep this up, can’t be like this if he’s gonna have to work with Jack.

“Hey, pumpkin! Give me a hand here!”

Timothy peaked his head through the shuttle doors. Jack had his back to him, surveying a rather impressive stack of boxes, sprawling over most of the seats. “What’s all this?”

“Eh, Felicity sent over a shopping list. I dunno what half this shit is; I got Moxxi to get it together.”

Timothy flipped open one of the boxes. It wasn’t particularly big, but it was filled to the top with MREs. “Thank fuck. I didn’t think how soon I’d have to bust out the fucking veggie omelet. Was kinda wishing I threw it into the lava flow so I could starve in peace.”

Jack snorted. “Didn’t think you were such a diva, cupcake.”

“Hey, you wanna eat it, be my guest! I think I still have five if you’re that much of a masochist.” Timothy grabbed the box possessively. “Seriously, Boss, I’ll trust your programming skills; you can trust my meal reviews.” Timothy was about to turn away, thrilled that maybe this weird camping trip wasn’t going to be as bad as he though, but he saw Jack pause, giving the boxes a calculating look. Timothy wouldn’t call himself great at reading people, but something of the frustration on his face reminds him of Jack, weak and tangled up in his sheets. “I got them, boss.” Jack turned to him, gearing up to defend his stupid ass pride or something. “We’ve already had to take enough time getting these supplies together. I’m sure Gladstone could use a hand.”

Jack frowned at him. It’s one of those weirdly intense stares that made Timothy feel completely transparent, like he’s nothing more than a programming bug to be eliminated. Timothy knows Jack is a smart guy, but, well...Jack always seemed to be off in his own little genius world, taking in the big picture so that Timothy can make sure the important, mundane things get done while Jack’s attention is elsewhere. But moments like these? Timothy felt like he was playing with a tiger. “Sure thing, pumpkin.” The moment was gone in an instant, Jack squeezing Timothy’s shoulder playfully. “I’ve been itching to see the birth canal of our robot army!”

—-

The digi-Jacks heads snapped up the minute they entered the power control room. They didn’t even look at Jack, just stared hard at Timothy, Left frowning something fierce. Jack isn’t really looking at any of them, though, just gazing appraisingly around the room. Which, uh, is probably a good thing, because Gladstone is gaping like a fish, eyes darting between the two of them. Uh, yeah, he did sort of didn’t realize that Gladstone didn’t know they were identical. Well, apart from the sorry state of Timothy’s clothes. Timothy wondered how soon he could politely dump his box and make a break for the others.

“So,” Jack clapped his hands loudly, making everyone jump. “Where’re we at?” He crossed over to Gladstone, bending over to glance into the Computer’s innards.

Gladstone’s mouth worked for a moment. “Uh, well, I, um…”

“Sometime today, pumpkin.”

“I need to get the electric shielding back up and running, but I need to get this running to see where the fault in the line is. After that, this console should show me what needs fixing, but just as far as the facility’s concerned.”

“Lemme see what you’ve got going on here.”

“Well,” Gladstone began, as they huddled together. “Whatever supplies they’ve had on hand, we haven’t been able to find, so I’ve been having to cannibalize-“

Timothy stopped listening, gingerly putting down the box, nabbing the digi-Jack controller off of the table in the center of the room and bailing while their attention was elsewhere.

—x

There is that to be said for Jack; he gets really into his work. As far as Jack is concerned, him and Gladstone could be alone on a desolate planet, despite Timothy making a fuck ton of racket sorting through the boxes. Most of the supplies make sense; supplies and tools for Gladstone, spare blankets and sleeping pads, Hell, even _pillows_. Not that Timothy has room to take them with him afterwards, but he’s gonna enjoy the fuck out of them while he’s here and he’ll try not to cry too much when he has to go back to his spare clothes shoved in his pack. There’s a mix of fresh and dehydrated food, jugs of water, spare ammo and some technical stuff that probably has to do with whatever Jack and Gladstone are doing.

But then, somethings don’t make sense. There’s a pack of walkie-talkies and some weird masks that Timothy can’t think of a use for. There’s too many canteens, a couple pair of sunglasses, a reflective blanket, and couple of weird bundles that turn out to hats with extra wide brims. It takes Timothy a while to uncover most of this, because the weird things are hidden throughout all of the boxes. Not that he knows what it mean, of course, but weird stuff plus Felicity means Timothy just sort of instinctively keeps it from Jack. In the end, he just shoves the weird things in his own pile, and at a glance nothing looks weird, as the piles are about the same size. Not that Timothy should need a full kit, but he drags it to his tiny room while they’re preoccupied, just in case.

—x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -will I go back to writing chapter notes? yep, but I've been a little under the weather lately, so, uh, trust me, you don't want to winy garbage that I've almost been adding. Until then, let's just let the chapters speak for themselves-


	15. Dealing with Genius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling much better about life now (October is a pretty emotional taxing month for me and I always forget). Things have been weird with not one, but two new kittens in our life (about a month or two ago? I've been kinda feeling weird for a while) and that's probably the 100% best part of this roller coaster so far, so I thought I'd share. Their names are Folly and Pixel :)

“Jack is weird.” Left observed when they were making dinner. Right had happily taken charge, trying out new words to direct them to make Roland’s stew. Timothy was sent to chop vegetables, while Left cleaned them off. When all was said and done, Timothy should probably have set up the portable stove in the power control room, but at least in front of their rooms Timothy got _this_.

“I mean, yeah.” Timothy replied, luckily _not_ managing to slice off his finger in surprise. He still wasn’t one hundred percent used to them talking, especially Left. Right would just say whatever he was feeling, even if he occasionally got the words wrong or jumbled. Left talked significantly less, always after a lot of thought. It seemed very important to him to talk correctly, so Timothy knew that something was up. “He’s kinda a weird dude, but, I dunno; I don’t know too many people.”

Left stared at the ceiling for a while, hands working completely independently. Timothy listened to Right sing a nonsense song using soup making words. Currently, he was just warbling out “potato” while vigorously stirring the pot.

“We…” Left began. His sentences normally took a little bit of time. “Our programming...did not account...for you.”

Right nodded, turning the motion into a bizarre bopping dance. “Yep, Yep, Yep, yeeessss. Timothy best. Who is jack? Potato, potato, potato, stiiiiiir.” Yeah, Timothy guessed there was something to be said for enthusiasm, laughing at Right’s song and blushing despite himself.

Left frowned, annoyed at his brother. “Yes. We obey Jack. You are Jack. We follow you. But...Jack is not you. We…-“

“Confused!” Right said brightly, in Left’s pause. Left threw a carrot at his head, but Right turned transparent a couple of seconds before impact and the carrot whizzed through him. “Contradiction!” This time Right dogged the next carrot. “Only one Jack. Our Jack is Timothy. But Jack must be Timothy!”

“You are very different!” Left yelled over his brother, who started giggling delightedly. “We learn, but some things are built in.”

“So…”Timothy began, a little dazed. “Your programming says there’s only one Jack.”

Right nodded. “Felicity says quiet near Jack.”

“But we might quiet near you.” Left gritted out.

“Or might loud near Jack.”

“And why haven’t you told me this?” Felicity nearly shouts at them.

Right shrugged, looking at the ceiling. “Basic, basic. You can’t change.”

“I, uh...what’s going on?” Seriously, making dinner wasn't supposed to be so mentally taxing.

Felicity sighted. “I can change their code, but I can’t change their basic rules. Ah, there it is. That is...weirdly specific. I can’t do anything about this.” Felicity growled. “You’re going to have to ask Jack.”

“Great.”

\---

“Hello?”  Timothy could hear Jack and Gladstone chattering farther in the room. He had left the guys watching the soup at Right’s insistence, and even though he knew they could more than handle themselves, their absence left him feeling a little naked. “Guys?” Timothy sighed. “GUYS!” Timothy heard a loud thwack and Jack cursing. Timothy tried not to smile too much.

“What’s happened?” Gladstone squeaked.

Okay, that did make Timothy feel a little bad. “Nothing. Dinner’s ready.”

“Fuck, pumpkin, learn a little priorities here!”

“Yeah, well I left the guys watching over the soup.” Timothy yelled back.

“Whatever. I’ll eat when I’m fucking ready, cupcake, okay?”

Fucking stubborn, self-destructive- “Uh huh. Sure. Let me guess; you’re not planning on sleeping tonight either?” Timothy was hoping to just duck out of the room, but when did Jack ever do anything easy?

“Hey, when you’re doing any of the _actual_ work, sugar, maybe then-“

Timothy saw fucking red. He rounded the corner and stomped over to them. “Nope.”

 Jack blanched, but tried to muster his anger again. “You can’t-“

Timothy hauled Jack up by the arm, Gladstone standing up hesitantly, face pale. “No, asshole. We can’t afford to have you pass out when we need you, just because you don’t fucking _feel_ like taking care of yourself.” Timothy dragged him back the way he came. “You are _going_ to eat some real food and you’re going to sleep, even if I have to fucking drag you.”

—-

So dinner was...awkward. Gladstone kept looking at Timothy like he didn’t know who the fuck he was anymore and Jack….Jack was quiet, not really looking at anybody, hunched over his bowl. God, Timothy hoped he wasn’t going to get an earful, even if Timothy was in the right.

Timothy kept glancing at the guys. Now that he wasn’t so focused on Jack, he could tell something was wrong. They looked sort of like they were lagging. Occasionally they would glitch out of whatever they were doing and were constantly sparking, sometimes glitching in transparency. Timothy would have to pin down Jack after dinner, because despite exploding moons and robot armies, it’s this that’s too much for his nerves.

-xx-

Jack made a break for the power control room as soon as he was done eating; convenient for Timothy, but he could have done without jack saying “Okay, kids! Food was great and all, but daddy’s gotta get back to work.”

Timothy had to jog after the guy to catch up. “Hey!”

Jack stopped, spinning around angrily. “Yeah, What?” He was facing Timothy, but his eyes were trained somewhere left of his ear, flushing in anger.

“I just...I have a problem with the guys.” Timothy admitted awkwardly.

Jack blinked and refocused on him. He relaxed, but he was looking at Timothy like he was a puzzle. “You, princess, are a fucking enigma.”

Timothy blinked. “What-?”

Jack looked a little, Yeah, flustered. “You’re such a fucking pushover, like, ninety percent of the time. I mean, the fucking macho vault hunter kinda comes out of nowhere. Gotta warn a guy.”

Oh. Oh _no_. “Um, I...I’m not really sure where it came from either?” Timothy squeaked.

“Not that I want to encourage that…” though Jack’s blush might just say otherwise. “But, uh, not in front of Gladstone? We can’t afford to have my authority undermined.”

Timothy just wanted to say yes, but his point still stood.  “Collapsing in front of him wouldn’t help, either.”

Jack just shrugged and Timothy knew it wasn’t going to be the last time this was brought up. “Whatever, fine, we’ll work on it. So, what did you need my expertise for, pumpkin?”

“The, uh, Digi-Jacks are acting weird.” God, it was awkward calling them that to the guy’s face. “Felicity said that there’s a paradox or something? That the fact that there’s two ‘Jacks’ is screwing up their data?”

Jack blinked. “I…” jack abruptly turned around and marched back to their partially reassembled computer, bee-lineing for his bag and yanking out a laptop.

Timothy trailed after him, only daring to say something once jack was settled, the laptop balanced on his lap. “I wouldn’t mention it; I mean, I don’t like seeing them like that, but-“

“Shush, cupcake; I can’t think.” Jack’s eyes didn’t even leave the screen.

Timothy was just about to go back to his abandoned meal, feeling awkward just standing there, when Jack spoke up again. “Okay, that should do it.”

Timothy blinked. “That’s it?”

“‘That’s it?’ Pumpkin, it only took me that long ‘cause of all that new code.”

“Why was it even there in the first place, I mean, if you were just going to give them to me anyway?”

Jack shrugged, eyes trained on the screen. “Been working on them for years, kitten; never know what’s gonna happen. Only reason I bothered getting them that finished was ‘cause I thought it would be funny.”

“I...seriously?”

“Yeah…” But Timothy can already tell Jack’s attention was wavering. “I dunno. I think I was trippin’ balls at the time. Not sure.”

Seriously, how self destructive could one guy _get_? “ _Okay_ ….I….I’m gonna let you be.”

Jack just grunted, which was honestly more than Timothy expected.

—-

“That,” Felicity murmured. “Was easier than expected.”

Timothy can’t help but agree.

“What was?” Gladstone asked cautiously.

“See,” Felicity began, tone not exactly condescending, but not very inviting, either. “This is where we start running into a few problems, Gladstone Katoa. To be fair, giving us your robot design plans and aiding in repairing the facility is already pretty damning as it is, but there is a reason things are on a strict need-to-know basis.”

Gladstone, surprisingly, sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders. “I’m not a child! Am I the most worldly? No, I get that, mate, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m getting into. I’m here to save Elpis, save my _home_ , same as you, same as Timothy, same as Jack.” Gladstone lowered his tone. “The only reason we’ve got a chance is my design; I know what design he was planning on cannibalizing and that would have taken too long to alter and too much time to make. So I don’t why you keep on insisting I stay in the dark!”

“Felicity…” Timothy began.

“Oh, alright!” Felicity huffed. “But the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

“It’s just Elpis, Felicity.” Timothy attempted to placate. “A little backwards moon of a rough, out of the way planet filled with sand and bandits.” Timothy winced when realized what he said. “Uh, Sorry, man.”

Gladstone shrugged. “Nope, no. I know exactly what you mean, bruv.”

“I mean, I see why things might be dicey on Elpis, but Gladstone, you plan on just heading back to Helios after, right?”

“Yeah, mate; I’ve had enough adventure to last me a lifetime.”

Timothy nodded. “Exactly, so what’s so important about him knowing what’s going on?”

“Why? Because, Timothy, things are changing. Yes, Pandora _was_ a miserable little planet with a weird sort of mineral and numerous natural resources. But all of that’s changed now. Don’t you get it?” Felicity asked incredulously. “The vault changed everything! And now, everyone with any sort of military might will be rushing here to claim everything they can! And that doesn’t even take into account the sirens. I think, Elpis impending destruction notwithstanding, that Pandora will be a dangerous place to be in the coming years, especially for someone who knows important things. Who knows what information might be important. Who knows what someone is willing to kill for.”

At this, Gladstone did turn pale. “Maybe...maybe I shouldn’t know everything…”

“You probably already know too much.” Felicity admitted. “You already know of Timothy’s existence; I imagine that will be fairly precious knowledge, considering Jack represents Hyperion’s presence.”

“Timothy?” Gladstone went even more ghostly. “But-he’s just-“

“Looks suspiciously like Jack, despite the extra muscle growth?” Felicity asked.

“I’m, uh,” Timothy said apologetically. “I’m his doppelgänger. Thought you knew, being Hyperion and all.”

“This,” Gladstone closed his eyes. “This is all higher up than I imagined.”

“You know,” Timothy sighed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

—-

Despite the Digi-Jacks rather simple update, the process still seemed to take a stupidly long amount of time. Gladstone had turned in for the night, looking pale and not at all certain and Timothy hoped things would look better for him in the morning.

Timothy dealt with the remains of dinner and it was good to have something to take his mind off of, well, everything.

He tried to ignore feeling small and alone in the room, but Felicity playing music helped some. Really, though, he was just biding his time before he had to somehow drag Jack to bed without the guy thinking it was an invitation.

And this was only their second night here; honestly, Timothy had no idea what he was going to do with all of this free time. Okay, _technically_ he was guarding Jack and Gladstone, but from what Timothy could hear over the coms, Lilith and Roland were doing a pretty awesome job.

All of this, Timothy supposed, probably should put him in a good mood, but he rapidly realized that charging ahead and having other people plan is _way_ better for his nerves. Maybe it’s cowardly of him, but honestly, all he wants to do is take the shuttle over to Concordia and see what kinda shit people will pay him to do. It’s nowhere near the life he’s envisioned for himself, but maybe he’s changed more than he’s realized.

\-----

And that, for the most part, was how the next few days went. It wasn’t hard, it wasn’t glamorous and way more emotional whiplash that it really should have been, but there you go. With Jack’s help, the computer was patched up pretty quick, and then it was on to computer shit and evaluating things and all sorts of technical things that went above Timothy’s head.

He was pretty sure Gladstone had caught onto the guys’ hidden intelligence, mostly because Left was loudly lecturing Timothy after passing out in the open while they were recharging. Jack, of course, kept such strange and irregular hours that this never seemed to be an issue. Honestly, the best Timothy could do was shove a rehydrated MRE into Jack’s hands at four hour intervals.

—-

“Okay, kiddos.” Jack said, stumbling over to where Timothy and Gladstone had been eating dinner. Jack eased himself gingerly down, still wincing. “Battle planning time, now that we’ve done our setup shit.”

Timothy surreptitiously gestured at Right, who started poking at the stove again to reheat the food. “We’re ready for all that?”

“Shit needs to get fixed before it can reliably hold Felicity without damaging her. Ya know, power fluxuations, shutdowns, that sort of thing.”

Gladstone nodded. “We’ve got a pretty good idea of what we needed to repair, thanks to that computer we fixed, but finalizing the actual building program and combat software will take some time, bruv.”

“Be best if we split up. I mean, sure I can follow you two,” Timothy glanced at the stiff way Jack was holding himself; not that Timothy knew the signs,  but it looked like the guy was pushing himself too hard. He didn’t want to think what the extra travel would do. “But I’d rather just do my thing, you know.”

Timothy rubbed his forehead. “Sure, _technically_ that works, but I can’t be in two places at once. I know we haven’t seen any bandits, but do we really want to take that chance?”

“Been thinking about that.” Jack grinned. “I was dicking around in their systems and you won’t _believe_ the shit I found.” Jack sighed happily. “I'm talking about turrets, sealable doors, claymores; that sort of shit. I mean, these guys had a massive hard on for some major firepower.”

“The design is fairly common for Dahl.” Felicity agreed.

“Yeah, if Helios had half of this, we wouldn’t’ be here.”

“Or we wouldn’t be here to stop Zarpedon.” Timothy pointed out. “I mean, I guess it all depends on how easy it is for anyone to trigger the weapons, but it sounds pretty dicey to me.”

Jack waved it away. “Just gotta make sure the command center is the most secure, then boom! No more problems! ”

“Yeah, but you gotta make sure everyone in charge is on the same page!”

“No,” Felicity added. “You just have multiple control centers and specialized genetic keys.”

“Yeah, but if the guy is dead, because, you know, the enemy makes it through-“

“What has this to do with repairing the facility?” Gladstone asked, clearly distressed.

Jack blinked. “Right. So my point was, I think I can get the security system working. Only in here for now, ‘cause of the same reason we’re not uploading Felicity, but I was planning on getting it up and running anyway before we leave for Helios. Probably before we get to robot making.”

“Right, so we’re just supposed to leave you here with a security system that _might_ work?” Timothy rubbed his eyes.

“The fuck you take me for, cupcake?” Jack said indignantly. “I made them, after all.” HE pointed dramatically at the holograms.

Right paused in the middle of dishing up soup. Left looked like he was trying not to glare.

Timothy sighed, and glanced at Gladstone. The scientist looked just as exasperated as Timothy and wishing like could forget. “And you just admitted it took you _years_ , Jack.”

Jack scowled. “It’s not like there’s any problem with the security program, just the power flow and output.”

“What about the targeting?” Gladstone pipped up. “I had a lot of problems coming up with a method for determining friend from foe.”

“Dahl systems traditionally use employee IDs.” Felicity said smoothly. “It’s the best way to stop enemies from maintaining control even if the troops in the area fall.”

“And if we die stupidly, there goes the moon.” Timothy glared at Jack. “Thanks, Felicity.”

“Of course, Timothy. However, you should be able to shut off just the security in the power center while leaving the surrounding rooms and hallways active. Of course, you’ll have to turn it off before anyone comes close, but any better fix will take time we don’t have.”

Timothy winced. He didn’t like this plan, didn’t like all of the variables, but at least it seemed manageable. “I guess we don’t have much of a choice, then.”

“Cool,” Jack said abruptly, like Timothy agreeing was a foregone conclusion. “So I’ll keep working, and you two’ll fix this shit, and we’ll have a robot army in no time!”

——

‘In no time’ was looking to be an understatement. Timothy was only beginning to understand that as he packed the gear that night with Gladstone’s help. Luckily, while the facility was big, at least in the beginning, there wasn’t much point in making a new camp, so they could leave all of the day to day stuff in their rooms, minus their canteens and some MREs of course. That should have made their packs ridiculously light, but then Gladstone started pulling all of the nice, heavy steel tools and spare parts and Timothy was hastily recalculating weights and trying to guesstimate how much Gladstone could reasonably carry.

Of course, Gladstone was quick to reassure him, this was only the stuff they _might_ need. Still, the sheer amount of shit laid out was intimidating as hell.

——

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, kinda learning my lesson here and maaaaybe I should do more Helios planning before we get there this time. Last time I thought about this was pre-Drakensberg, so obvs now I’ve got a better idea of pacing and everything. I only have one or two things I definitely plan using, but what do YOU want to see? Nakayama and his fangirl-ing? Tassiter’s anti-Jack campaign after Helios is recaptured? Mostly R&D? A little R&D? The more I thought about it, the more I started to realize just how BIG Helios actually is (so much so that I stopped two different playthroughs here). I mean, who the heck knows what will happen when we get there, but if you’d like to leave feedback, I’d appreciate it greatly!}


	16. UPDATE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some personal updates, no story.

Hiya  
So as you might have guessed....this isn't a chapter.   
Like, I'm sure most of you are excited when there's an update and not worried about it when there isn't one....but I kinda felt like sharing an explanation, especially when I've been on such a roll lately.  
As of now...my cat is really, really sick. She's the third cat to get sick in about a month, and while Shadow and Pixel were "Ah, they got a fever, pat on the head and some meds" sort of deal....my cat has something wrong with her liver. I'll be honest, I'm not sure 100% what's wrong with her and how pressing an issue it will mean for her health in the long term, but as of now...she's skinny. Really weak and skinny. Like, they would have, money not being an issue, kept her and monitored her overnight. And to be frank, my anxiety isn't making this great. At all. But...and this is fairly hard to talk about, but for the last couple of years, I've lost someone I've loved around this time of year.   
To say that watching her suffer is hard would be an understatement.   
I'm sure you'll understand when I say that this next chapter probably going to be delayed. This story isn't dead, which is mostly what I've popped in here to say, just....this story isn't currently as distracting as I need right now.  
In other news, my main 'job' (and I mean that loosely, as my #1 job right now is taking care of my father) is being a professional painter. I've made...minimal money this year, which means I've had a lot of spare time to devote to this fic. Not the best, but there you go. HOWEVER. This is now changed. Because, guys, I GOT INTO A LEGIT, NATIONALLY RECOGNIZED ART FESTIVAL! It's a local thing, and it's in the 'emerging artist' category but holy shit. You honestly don't know how many times I've wondered how long I can play at it before I have to give up this dream.   
What this does mean, though, is that I obviously have to buckle down on painting a crap ton of shit. BUT, to keep this in mind, I'm not sure how big of an impact it will have on this fic? To overcome his stroke, my dad has 3 hours of therapy a week, which is when I do most of my writing. Add a couple extra hours a week and that's how long it takes to write a chapter. For the reasons above, I've been behind this past week, as this is sort of far down on my list of priorities.   
I think that's it for an update. I might delete this when I post the new chapter to keep it consistent, but, hey, we'll get to that bridge later.   
And, Seriously, everyone...thank you so much for every comment and kudos. It's possible wouldn't still be writing this otherwise, and I DEFINITELY wouldn't be this far along. Fiddle...thank you SO much. I can't even express it in words how freaking motivating it is to know that I have, like, dedicated readers???? I can't wait to sit down and write the reply you deserve...but I can't quite manage it right at the moment, if you'll excuse me. Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind....again, I can't reiterate how much your support means to me and just how freaking long you've been with this fic. Seriously, sometimes I can't believe how long I've stuck with it.   
Okay, seriously this time guys, I'm done this time. Signing off. And I pray that you're all in good health and spirits and that a little bit of luck shines in your direction.


	17. 16. In No Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -A real update-  
> Titan: in which things get fixed, things get coded, but Timothy doesn't give a fuck and pisses about. Honestly, he's ready to go kill things and stop thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a bit of a break. Everything's fine, everyone's healthy, but these Titan chapters are a little different from pretty much everything else in this story and I'm not only has flow been hard for me to find, but also...where do I end the never-ending sea of dialogue? That and, ya know, seasonal depression. or seasonal anxiety. But 'finished' or no, this chapter is going up, my friends! Merry new year and may love and luck guide the year to come!

“Jack doesn’t seems so bad.” Gladstone said after they headed out. So far, Gladstone wasn’t struggling, but Timothy figured this was _not_ gonna be fun, not if Gladstone was in the same shape as Timothy had been when he signed up for the gig. As it was, Timothy was expecting to be sore as hell.  

Timothy sighed. “Yeah, I know. And I mostly agree with you, but...I dunno, whenever I drop my guard he just does something else, you know? Do I want to believe that we can be just two normal colleagues? Yeah, even if the guy is a trial and a half. But, I mean,” Timothy scrubbed a hand over his face. “Honestly, I’m just hoping he doesn’t embarrass me too bad.” Gladstone hummed in understanding. “I mean, I don’t think he does it on purpose, you know? We just...I dunno...live in different worlds? I mean, it’s normal, right, to be this fucking old and, like, just be able to chat up people? I don’t fucking know.”

Gladstone nodded. “At least it’s not just me, bruv. I used to think, you know, that it was just because how smart I was, but...I think it was just living on our farm. I mean, with shuttles we didn’t have to even leave the farm that often. I think I only saw Concordia three times before I left the planet.”

“Homeschooled?”

“Yeah. If it wasn’t just my mum and me I could have graduated early, but it’s not like I can blame my dad for running into a nest Kraggon when I was three. I mean, some of the guys in R&D are maybe as bad as me when it comes to ladies, but not most of them. I mean, I dunno, bruv; I’ll admit, R&D is pretty separate from the rest of Helios, so who was in control and who wrote the paychecks and who approved our projects wasn’t very personal. But if I had thought about it, I wouldn’t have guessed the big guy would have been that smart; you’ve got to be pretty good at people to get that high.”

Timothy furrowed his brow. “So Jack, smart as he is and interested in weird new technology….he wasn’t in your department?”

“Not that I know of, bruv. I mean, sometimes we would get interesting projects lobbed at us, and sometimes the suggestions were really innovative, but...nah. Could be a pay thing, though. You gotta go for a lot more schooling, and unless you make something really banging, you gotta go through a lot of apprenticeship before they’ll even look at a project proposal. Even then, most of what Hyperion wants is guns, which, you know, is fun, especially with all of new materials we’ve unearthed on Pandora and Elpis, but a brain starts to stagnate.”

“The more I learn about Jack, the weirder this guy gets.” Timothy admitted. “He crawled his way up the corporate ladder, makes illegal AI on the side, is interested in Sirens and vaults, is obviously interested in R&D but not involved with you guys, butts heads with the big boss, but he runs Helios and somehow _isn’t_ fired….and none of that even begins to takes his personal life into account.” Timothy shook his head. “I think I could spend a lifetime learning about Jack and not understand a single fucking thing.”  

—-

It didn’t take them that long to get to their first objective, but even so, Gladstone looked pretty winded.

“This is the first location of the first set of errors.” Felicity said, annoyingly smooth.

“First _set_?” Timothy groaned. “How long are we going to be doing this?”

“I can’t be one hundred percent certain, as more issues may present themselves as things start working again, but if you’ll look at your map, I have marked the location of the errors in red.”

Timothy glanced at the map and blanched. “Okay, I seriously have no idea how to fix any to this shit! I dunno how we’re gonna even _fix_ this in four months!”

“We don’t have to fix everything.” Gladstone set down his pack with a groan, but started digging in it immediately, to his credit. “This facility was also built to accommodate power suit construction, which has a whole bunch of things we don’t need, like safety glass molding, AC, cockpit; all pretty intensive stuff. I’d kill to design a power suit, bruv! Helping Elpis comes first, though.” Gladstone finally located the toolbox. “Okay! Let’s get started! I’ll kinda tell you what I’m doing while you hand me tools, and hopefully you’ll get the hang of it before we’re done.”

“Okay, guys.” Timothy turned the Digi-Jacks. “You’re on watch.”

——

Timothy felt stupid. Not that was one hundred percent weird for him. He hadn’t been terrible at school, it’s just, well, who wants to spend a week writing a paper on some stupid novel that you have to pretend is _way_ more complicated than it actually is? After all, there’s movies to watch and moms to avoid and the internet and making a fool of yourself in front of sexy, popular people. Not that he was that bad when he was actually _paying_ for his education, but then it was a choice between studying or putting food on the table. That being said, if he knew where his life would end up, Timothy could think of a thousand different things he _should_ have done. He wonders how much more effective he could have been had he taken shop classes or joined a gang or did track and field or literally anything productive. Of course then he probably wouldn’t have ended up here, handing over tools he was barely learning the names of to an awkward scientist on an exploding moon.

\---

“Hey, man...are you...happy?” They had taken a break for lunch. Timothy had just shoveled his food, as he had kinda gotten into the habit of, so he had just been sitting there with his thoughts and nothing to do with his hands. “I mean...you know, when moons aren’t exploding and all that. Like...being a scientist, making a difference, creating new things?”

Gladstone lowered his food. “I dunno, bruv.” He stared deeply at his reconstituted mush. “Sometimes I wished I never left. Sometimes I wish I had spent all the time I could with my mum....but I wouldn’t have been happy here. And then I would have died with her. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing, some days.” Gladstone sighed, staring at the floor. “Am I living my dream? Yeah, but...after mum I don’t really have anyone to share it with. I just...I kinda thought she’d just be there forever, you know? That anything that might happen to her would be years off. And I knew how dangerous Elpis was. I _knew_ it. I dunno.” Gladstone picked at his shoes. “I guess I was hoping something I made would make up for the difference. That, you know, if I made something really good, and I mean something that changed people’s lives….even if they didn’t remember who made it, wouldn’t it mean my life meant _something_?”

“I dunno man. That’s….heavy.” Timothy took that all in. “I guess...like, I always thought that….I dunno, if I was just a little bit smarter, or a little bit cooler or, I dunno, a little more normal, that my life would be, just, so much better. I guess...maybe that’s why I liked acting; because,” Timothy shook his head wryly. “Maybe I just thought being someone other than me would make me happy. And instead I’m just...sitting here, with absolutely no skills, and the world is literally ending and there’s nothing more I can do and I’m just wondering...what could I have done with my life? Because being someone else-” Timothy pointed at his face. “I mean, the face is fine, but _being_ that asshole? And, yeah, he’s smarter than I am and in a good position at a great company and a hell of a lot more going for him. But I don’t want to _be_ him. And if your dream didn’t make you happy and what I wanted turned out to be pretending to be a dysfunctional mess...then what’s the point?”

“I don’t know.” Felicity answered quietly in the space his question left. “Because I used to think I was happy on the Drakensburg. I mean, I fulfilled the purpose I was programed for and there were a handful of people who didn’t treat me like I was a soda machine. How could I _not_ be happy? And then…” Felicity took a shuddering breath. “And then with that _asshole_... I knew what I _didn’t_ want my life to be like. But now? I’m not sure I was ever happy. Content, perhaps, but not happy.” Felicity laughed, but there was something too raw about it. “But what does that matter, in the bliss of ignorance?”

“What does it say about me that I’m the happiest now?” Timothy asked quietly. “I’ve killed so many people and I’ve...I’ve justified what I thought was unjustifiable…” Timothy squeezed his eyes shut. “And finally, for the first time in my life, I don’t feel like a fuck up.”

Electric, solid presences press against Timothy’s sides. Timothy opens his eyes as a buzzing hand touches his. Right draggs Timothy’s arm around him and snuggles against him like a cat. Left presses in tighter. “No idea.” Right admits, and it almost sounds dismissive, the cheery way he says it. “It’s all squishy.”

“It’s all we’ve known.” Left rumbles.

“Maybe ignorance, like lovely lady ‘Licity says.” Right continued. “But this is good.”

Left noded, and there’s something deeply serious to the set of his jaw that his twin couldn’t seem to manage.

“So let’s be happy!” Right crowed.

“It’s not as simply as that,” Felicity cautioned and Timothy can hear the wince in her voice. “You can’t just be happy. Life doesn’t work that way.”

Right tilted his head to the side, an unfamiliar frown tugging at his lips. “Why? There’s rocks an’ lava an’ soap an’ chopping an’ shooting an’ Timothy, Timothy, Timothy, and Felicity an’ quiet times an’ fire times an’ bumps an’ cars an’-” But Timothy’s laughter drowns out the rest of Right’s never ending list and maybe he blushed a bit, but Felicity is laughing along despite herself and even Gladstone is joining in. Right is grinning brighter than the sun, even as he comes up with more small, little things and throws in a few more ‘Timothy’s for good measure.

\----

“I didn’t realize how advanced they were.” Gladstone observed, voice muffled from the inside of the machinery.   

“Felicity’s been paranoid.” Timothy admitted. “Not so much about you, but, c’mon, we have two vault hunters and, shit, Jack could ask for them back at any time. Well, and the fact that they’re technically illegal, at least from a Hyperion standpoint.”

“That seems…” Gladstone sounded worried. “I dunno, bruv. Just seems kinda wrong to keep something like that from their creator.”

“It’s just for this job.” Timothy sighs. “I mean, they’re my backup if anything goes pear shaped and when he was based in Concordia...well, let’s just say I spent as much time away from Jack as I could. Look,” Timothy conceded. “when we get back to Helios, I’m probably gonna see him every day anyway, and, like, he’ll probably need to take them if he’s gonna improve what they can do. It’s just…” Timothy sighed. “Things are weird now. And it’s not like we want him to get sidetracked with, I dunno, adding swear words to their algorithm or whatever.”

Gladstone sighed. “There’s just so many secrets. It’s enough to drive a guy mad.”

\---

It’s far later than Timothy liked when they got back to the camp. Gladstone had been unwilling to leave his repair half finished, and Timothy had gotten antsier and antsier with each hour that had passed. Of course, the only real benefit of returning earlier was making a hot, fresh meal, but the later it dragged on, Timothy was starting to worry about Gladstone keeping up. In the end there wasn’t much to worry about; however, he’d have to watch the time from now on. They were only going to trek farther and farther into the facility.

\---

“What a fucking day.” Timothy jumped as Jack flopped down by the fire. The Digi-Jacks were already gone for the night and really, so should Timothy. Timothy would like to say he was awake to enjoy the silence, at least reveling the illusion of being alone, but mostly...mostly Timothy was wondering about a future he really has no idea about. Still, though; unlike Gladstone, Timothy sure as fuck isn’t wishing to turn back time. No way in hell.

Timothy nodded wearily at his boss’ observation. “You eat anything?”

Jack waved his hand. “I’m getting to it, cupcake.”

Timothy scowled. “Seriously, man, what’s even the point of making an identical twin if you don’t plan on living long enough to get your fucking money’s worth?”

“You mean other than the obvious reason?” Jack waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Timothy spluttered. “No! No! I mean….seriously. I, uh, I get that Helios is pretty big, but...it’s not like you own all of Hyperion. Honestly...not that I’m ungrateful or anything, but I have no idea why you need me.”

Jack exhaled loudly, leaning back on his hands. “Way to kill a mood, kitten. No, it’s just…”Jack was quiet for a long moment. “There’s shit I need to get done and shit I want to get done and shit I’ve been neglecting for...fuck, too many years and I just...don’t got near as much fucking time as I need.”

“You should have gotten someone _actually_ useful, then.”

Jack laughed. For all of the guy’s faults...he did have a nice laugh. “Shit, kid, you have no fucking idea how much of my time is wasted by fucking bureaucracy. I mean, this,” Jack gestured expansively at the imposing gray walls. “is a fucking vacation. I swear, every promotion lowers and lowers your lifespan. I mean, shit, I _know_ how much you fucking paid to learn how to fake giving a damn.”

“You know...I think sitting in an office all day is gonna drive me nuts.”

Jack snorted. “Shit, Tim! And here I thought you wanted all your debt payed off.”

“And here my professors said I’d never get a job acting.” Timothy said wryly.

\---

Timothy really, really should head to bed. He can’t say why he’s still sitting there, pretending not to notice as Jack staring at Timothy while absently shovels his food .

“You ever been married, Tim Tams?”

Timothy blinked. Okay...seriously, he had been expecting something seriously more suggestive. “Uh...no?”

“Oh.” More chewing. “Ever wanted to marry someone?”

“Um...nope? I haven’t, uh, been in that sort of relationship.” Or any, really, but his boss didn’t have to know that.  “Why?”

“Just wondering. Forget how young you are, sometimes.”

“You?” Timothy asked cautiously. Jack seemed to be in a good mood, but who the fuck knew, really.

Jack shrugged. “Yeah. Long ass time ago. Still in college at the time.” And though his body language is relaxed, there’s something in his eyes, something very, very tired to the set of his jaw.

“It...ended badly?”

Jack snorted, shoving a huge bit of food into his mouth. “You could say that.” Jack mumbled around the food. “She died about a year in.” Jack saw the horror in Timothy’s eyes and rolled his eyes. “Fuck, kiddo; I don’t care. She died, it was shocking, but I didn’t even know her. Not really. I just sorta felt like I had to marry her. Probably wouldn’t, if I did it all again.”

Timothy blinked, unable to wrap his head around what Jack was telling him. “But, if you didn’t-”

“Jesus fuck, kid. People get married for a lot of fuckign reasons, okay? Call me a callous bastard all you want, I don’t give a fuck, but it was thirteen years ago, okay?”

“Alright.” Timothy said quietly.

“Good.” Jack snapped and there was nothing more to be said.

\---

Timothy worried on some level that whatever weird conversation would have some negative repercussions, Jack maybe regretting saying so much, that sort of thing, but it was almost like it didn’t happen. Jack was nowhere to be found in the morning, though Gladstone was grumbling at the aches and pains.

The work was the same, just slightly farther in the building, lots of replacing wires and sliding in easily replaced parts. Gotta say this for interplanetary factories: they were built out of cookie cutter pieces, easily constructed and easily repaired with lots of spares. Not everything was so easily done; they were stuck trying to adhere a tiny little clip that kept the hardware in place so they could replace the unit. That pesky little motherfucker broke _three_ times. God, and that didn’t even take into account letting the glue dry, precisely placing the clip, and fiddling with the bulky unit. Gladstone did some sort of magic in the end, and Gladstone babbled a whole lot of words at him, but Timothy had the sneaking suspicion that the guy just glued the whole unit in.

—x

“If they’re so smart, then why do they talk like that?” Gladstone asked when they moved to their second location of the day.

“Ah,” Felicity murmured. “It’s not so much a question of learning the language, as such, though nuance does play a part in it. It mostly has to do with merging their different processes.”

“Huh?” Timothy paused in his rummaging.

“It’s like I told you when you asked how old I was, Timothy; AI run on two different wavelengths of time. They are used to conveying complex thoughts in nanoseconds, both between each other and myself. It’s the merging of two wavelengths that is the tricky part. The abnormal sentence structure comes from either trying to communicate as fast as possible, or getting distracted multiple times within a sentence. They do operate on a more human timescale than a typical AI, working so closely with Timothy, but that doesn’t mean they are used to complicated communication on that level. Most AI are typically used for running large, complicated systems, and such we have a rudimentary language system built in. I, for example, was able to communicate smoothly within the hour, well before I developed my personality.”

“So couldn’t you add that base code to them?”

“Technically I could, however I would be hesitant to try to merge my Dahl compatible system to their rogue one. Eventually, the kinks would get worked out, however the boys are...stubborn.”

Timothy laughed. “Stubborn?”

“They want to do it themselves.”

“It’s learning!” Right shouted back at them from his guard position. His brother just rolled his eyes. “We learn. We protect Timothy.”

“And Jack,” Left reminded his twin, but it’s not said with any sort of enthusiasm.

A worried look crossed Right’s face, but it was gone in an instant. “And there’s nothing to do!” Right whined.

Timothy snorted, but came up short. “Hey, That’s...that’s a real sentence!”

Right preened, sticking his toung out at his brother.

“Yeah, Jokes on you, mister: I’m only saying that because I _know_ you’re behind Left.”

Right deflated and Left snickered.

—-

It’s been a good night. Jack was still working, so Timothy popped in to lob some MREs at his head before turning in. Not that he really expected Jack to eat it, not with the vague grunt Timothy received in response.

He pushed open the door to his little room, wondering where the hell he stashed his sewing kit, when he noticed the holograms. Left had his arms crossed, glaring at his brother, who looked like he was going to start throwing pillows around.

“Uh…”

The holograms twitched at the sound and looked sheepishly at each other.

“Is...everything alright?” Timothy asked cautiously.

They both deflated and nodded.

“It’s nothing.” Right mumbled, plopping down on Timothy’s bedroll, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“He doesn’t like sitting still.” Left admitted.

“And things are weird!” Right protested. He frowned and gripped the pillow tighter. “It’s not all gonna be how it was, is it?”

Timothy glanced at the two of them before settling down next to Right. “It’s...Yeah.” Timothy took a deep breath. “This isn’t the job we were supposed to do. We’re meant to be on Helios and sometimes I’m supposed to pretend to be Jack and you two are supposed to protect us.”

Right buried his face in the pillow. Left plopped next to Timothy. “So no mountain or lava or bandits.”

“Well,” Timothy scrambled. “Just because it isn’t the same doesn’t mean you won’t like it. You seem pretty happy no matter what we do.”

“What’s Helios like?” Left asked in the silence.

“Oh. Well...I’m not sure? Like, I mean, I got off the ship and I was shot at for the first time. But, uh, I think it had a pretty good view of space and the planets.”

“Space?” Right asked curiously.

“Yeah. It’s really cool, and there’s nothing quite like looking at a planet you’ve literally walked on from space. It’s like, you realize how small everything is and how every star is it’s own system with a half dozen planets...space can be cool too.”

Right looked at him with wide eyes. “Space…”

“We’ll be up there soon.” And Timothy doesn’t know how to feel about it, not yet, not when he doesn’t know if he’s ever  coming back down, but he forces himself to be cheerful for the guys. “Just gotta finish our army first.”

\---


	18. 17. Rampant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shoot dudes I totally forgot I finished this chapter at therapy this morning. Is it 100% polished? nope. Am I completely done sitting on this chapter? Oh hell yes. I've literally had the bare bones of this chapter on my computer for three months. I'm probably gonna go back and do the typo stuff later, but there'll be an edit here if I change anything major.

“Yo, kitten.” Jack poked his head around the door. 

Timothy jumped, fumbling the knife he was idly sharpening. It fell harmlessly onto the bedding next to him. “Shit, man!” Timothy fought to calm down. “Can’t you, like, knock or something?” Shit, he hadn’t expected to see the guy that night at all. Jack had been in one of those moods, so absorbed in whatever he was working on that the best Timothy could do was chuck MREs at his head. 

Jack ignored Timothy, letting himself in and stepping deftly over the mess, which...yeah, wasn’t very good, but Timothy was the only one who actually needed walk in there. Timothy spared a glance at the teleporting bastards. They were frozen, Right paused in the middle of his mending, Left busy inventorying their supplies, accounting for a good amount of the clutter.

Jack settled down next to Timothy with a grunt, making Right shuffle further back on the bedding. “Just needed a break, pumpkin.” Jack flopped back with a sigh, making Right scuttle farther away. “Just...urg...I can’t do another ounce of debugging. Kill me now.” Jack whined.

“I...uh...so you’re here because…?” Timothy shuffled, wishing he could scuttle away like Right. 

Jack didn’t even look at him. “Need a new project. Something to take my mind off it. I was thinking, like, a combat upgrade or something cool.”

Timothy breathed out, silently, because he didn’t want Jack to switch tracks.

“Started a couple things in Concordia. Whaddya think about flying Jacks?” He waved his arms in the air. 

“Uh, I don’t think that would be, uh, good? I mean, they’re already pretty amazing shots.”

Jack hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah...probably would impede their run time. Okay, okay...how about...rocket launchers?” The delight in Jack’s voice was palpable.

“Rocket launchers?” Timothy asked incredulously. Yeah, he could already see Right shooting them for the hell of it.

“Rocket launchers are badass! Could only fit in about five each if I cut down their run time by an hour or two…” Jack mused.

“I’m, uh, I’m not sure rockets on a space station would be all that good?”

Jack huffed. “Okay, alright, fine.” He was quiet for a moment. “How about ‘badass’ Jack’s?” Jack sat up, eyes gleaming. “Ya know, like how the bandits get when the radiation really fucks ‘em up? But, like, at a certain danger level, ya know, big baddies, lots of hostiles.” Jack giggled. “Fuckin’ Zarpa-dipshit. Would probably cut the runtime in half, but, dude, when you need it-“ Jack’s teeth gleamed as he crowded into Timothy’s personal space. “Boom! Badass.” God, Timothy was trying not to focus on anything too hard, not the passion gleaming in his eyes, not the attractive, self-satisfied smirk, not the sweep of his lashes as he looked up at Timothy. Bad,  _ bad  _ fucking idea.

In fact, he was trying too hard to  _ not _ think about his boss that Timothy missed Jack’s hands snapping up until they cupped his jaw and neck. He doesn’t have time to protest, to even squeak before Jack’s lips are against his.

Oh.

_ Fuck _ .

It’s over too soon. Fuck, it  _ should _ just be a harsh, excited press of lips, but-shit- _ that _ was halfway to a make out session. Timothy blinked, a little dazedly, as Jack bounded up. “I’m so fucking clever!” Timothy stared after him as the door clanged shut behind him. 

Timothy flopped back, head landing in Right’s lap. Right blinked down at him with wide eyes, absolutely shocked.

“That-“ Timothy touched his lips, trying very hard to stop blushing like a virgin. “That, uh...happened.”

Timothy jumped as a tingling finger caressed his lips. It wasn’t often that both of his holograms looked like mirrors anymore, but Left looked equally as floored. It lasted for only a moment; Left’s face growing thunderous and for once it was Right that seemed to be thinking things through. 

He took his time caressing Timothy’s lips, unhurried and unburdened by any preconceived notions. Timothy, though….Timothy had to fight to just lie there. He couldn’t stop his eyes fluttering shut. Jack and his stupid kiss had left him more keyed up than he liked to admit. 

“Left-“ Timothy began, but Left’s gaze snapping up to his made whatever inane thing he was going to say fly from his head.

“Why…” Left growled slowly. “Does that make me mad?”

Timothy swallowed, trying not to let his imagination run away from him. “I...dunno? All that emotion stuff is kinda...complex. I can’t tell you why.”

“But we can’t…” Right stuttered. “He’s  _ Jack _ -no…no control? No choice? It’s hard to be-“

“Can’t fight Jack, but we must protect Timothy.”

“Uh.” Timothy felt his flaming face get hotter. “Okay, that’s not the way you’re  _ supposed  _ to do that, but, uh” Timothy’s eyes darted around. “I can’t say I was in danger or anything.”

“Don’t care.” Left growled darkly, sparks rising and shooting violently at the solitary light, making it flicker dangerously. 

Okay. His holograms wanted to hurt Jack for kissing him. Not that it could mean anything. Nope. Because they were young and holograms and- 

_ Or do you want me to tell you about the other, fun protocols I have in storage? _

Timothy closed his eyes; it was much easier to control his racing thoughts with the harsh wave of disgust that boiled through him.

“Timmy?” Right asked. 

Timothy flinched. “Sorry.” Timothy stumbled his way up. “I just-“ He was babbling. “I dunno. This is weird and I don’t-“ Timothy tugged at his hair. 

Timothy flinched at the firm grip at his elbow. Flashing electric eyes bore into his. “Do we hunt Jack?”

Any other time Timothy might have laughed, because seriously, Jack was an ass, but he couldn’t imagine the guy doing something so bad to get a hit put out on him. But not like this, not with Left honest to god sparking. “No-!” But Timothy was surprised when Right echoed him. 

They both turned to look at the other hologram. “‘Don’t be rash. Don’t be stupid. Think things through.’ You always say. We don’t yet understand! And hunting our unhuntible is stupid! Just -urg! Go nap!”

Left let Timothy go, squaring up to march at his brother. Right sighed, turned to Timothy and mimed playing with dials on his wrist. 

With a jolt, Timothy got it and flicked the holograms off. They dematerialized in a rain of sparks, Left already halfway to his brother. 

Timothy flopped on his bedding. Why is the five hells were there boring, grueling days the ones that left him feeling the most drained?

-xx-

Stupid,  _ stupid _ Timothy. His head wasn’t in the game the next day, so bad that Left, silent, stubborn Left, had to shove him out of the way when the bandits they had been hearing  _ finally _ appeared. God, he hadn’t been that bad since they started this whole fucking adventure.

And if it was just Jack that would be one thing. That would make sense, because that would follow the same old patterns; quiet, alone, sad little Timothy looking doe eyed at someone better looking than him and smarter than him and more confident than him.

Except…

There’s the whole other problem, isn’t there? He doesn’t want to address it, doesn’t want to confront what it means about him as a person, but he’s rapidly approaching the point where he can’t ignore it for much longer. 

The Digi-Jacks. 

What the hell is he going to do about  _ that _ ? He’s too fucking embarrassed to admit out loud that his first idea is to just sleep with Jack.  It’s a stupid idea and wouldn’t even come close to solving the problem and it’s totally one hundred percent a hormonal-driven thought. Doesn’t stop him indulging for a second, thinking back to that kiss the realization that Jack had really wanted  _ him _ . Not that Timothy had really believed that Jack’s advances had been a joke, but...fuck, people didn’t want Timothy, not like that. And despite everything he had told Gladstone, a guy could get addicted to the attention.

But Jack, this thing with Jack was a lust thing. Whatever his sad heart was conjuring up with his holograms...that was something more. 

\---

All of that led, of course, to nothing. His thoughts swirled the whole time they were out, nothing being decided and Timothy feeling less and less sure about himself. Of course, he didn’t even pause to think how  _ Jack _ might respond to any of this until he’s stepping back into the familiar halls. And then he’s ripe with anxiety, feeling itchy in his own skin. He doesn’t even realize Gladstone doesn’t say anything about it until later; probably something to do with the fact that Timothy brushed off his questions a half dozen times earlier. That or the bandits. Bandits would do that to anyone. 

But Jack was off in his own world doing Jack things, barely acknowledging Timothy when he tentatively arrive to shove food at him.  Not that he really wants to  _ be _ with Jack, but would that be what it’s like? Spontaneous bursts of affection with days of silence in between? No wonder he didn’t know his wife. 

And the more he’s thinking about it, the more he’s putting together the mystery that is Jack….maybe no one really knows  _ him  _ either. Gladstone didn’t even know what he looked like and he’s pretty sure Jack was personally invested in the R&D department. That isn’t even taking into account how the guy recated when Timothy found him helpless in Concordia and Jack  _ trusts _ Timothy, at least for the most part. Jack has never once mentioned someone he had to leave behind on Helios, just “stop the moon exploding. Save helios.” There could be someone, Timothy had to admit, someone too painful to mention, but literally the only Hyperion employee he’s mentioned Tassiter and it’s only to trash talk the guy. 

Aaaand Timothy was back with the circular thinking. He was gonna have such a shit time shutting his brain down for the night. 

-xxx-

“Last sector.” Gladstone said, looking up at the ocular department’s sign. 

“Didn’t think we’d ever get here.” Timothy squared the pack on his back. 

“What do ya think you’re gonna do when we’re done here, bruv?” Gladstone asked when they had reached the first of the red errors. At this point, it didn’t take too much thought to unload. Heck, even Gladstone hadn’t been that out of breath. 

“I dunno.” Timothy replied distractedly, trying to untangle his tools from the bag. “Uh...go to Helios I guess?”

“We’ve got a couple months to build the army when things are done here. I mean, we might have more work if the security system has a problem with it, but I can’t imagine it’d take more than a few days.”

“Maybe less.” Felicity acknowledged. “Depends on the state of the repair drones.”

“Wait, wait, wait- are you saying that- there are freakin’ repair drones-”

“No!” Felicity and Gladstone corrected. 

“See, the actual factory portion of it would require more abstract human help that didn’t rely on sensors to fix things. I mean, the small stuff works out fine with automated repairs, but then you get into the bigger stuff and what if it reads as a completely different problem? I mean-” Timothy’s eyes glazed as Gladstone kept up the lesson.

“Not to mention,” Felicity added. “The security systems are, for the most part, designed to have less wear and tear. It’s also typically placed in a difficult to access location.”

“So….the security systems never glitch in a big way?” Timothy asked.

“Well, they do.” Felicity admitted, uncomfortable. “But loosing a few employees is a more acceptable loss than the delayment of a product.”

“But Hyperion wouldn’t do that!” Gladstone quickly reassured. “It’s part of the no AI program.” Gladstone flinched, glancing up at Felicity’s disembodied voice. “Sorry. It’s just...the more we rely on technology to do things, the less we know  _ how  _ to do things, and by working together, man and machine, we can overcome more obstacles.”

“Clever,” Felicity laughed. “Sort of a good moto for our Moon saving enterprise, is it not?”

Right clapped. 

Timothy giggled. ”Okay, guys, enough standing around. Let’s get this thing done! Left, Right stations, please. Don’t want those fuckers coming back again. Felicity, where’s our first problem?”

\---

“So we’re done.” Gladstone said, blinking at the last completed piece of machinery.   

“Huh.” 

Gladstone turned, grinning at Timothy. “We’ve done it! My...my life’s work!” He ran a hand fondly across the chassi of the humming machinery. “Now...now we’ll be able to colonize safely. Maybe we won’t even need companies to send us out to the stars, or-or corrupt governments to protect us!”

“Well, we can only hope.” Timothy agreed, feeling a little awkward.

Gladstone turned pulling Timothy into a tight, abrupt hug. Gladstone shuffled back, fidgeting adgitatedly and looking fixedly at Timothy’s shoes, but still beaming like the sun. “Thank you. I...couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Oh,” Timothy scratched his nose. “I mean, I just held tools, ya know?”

Right careened into Gladstone’s shoulder. “Welcome!” Okay, Timothy supposed it was fair that his hologram was better at taking a compliment than him. 

Gladstone righted himself and hesitantly put a hand on Right’s shoulder, pausing and stairing when his hand made contact with his electric form. “Wouldn’t have been the same without knowing you an’ you’re twin we’re looking out for us, bruv.”

Felicity’s voice crackled over their coms. “I’ve reported our status to jack and he requests that we return to our base of operations quickly. I suspect he’s eager to complete our current objective.”

“Well, you heard the lady. Let’s go make Gladstone’s dream come true.”

—-

“Alright!” Jack rubbed his hands together. Not that jack is normally sedate, but there’s something particularly strange about him, an odd tightness around his mouth, an almost manic shine in his eyes. “All we got left is to plug in Felicity, get her to double check the systems and print our first robo-baby!”

“I’m calling in Roland and Lilith now. I can’t predict what my upload will do to the systems; I’d rather we not get our vault hunters shot.”

“Cool. Imma go get things ready.” Jack retreated to his laptop with a wave. Timothy sighed in relief; he was rapidly realizing that it was best to just shove jack at a project when he got like that.

“Felicity,” Timothy said quietly, turning away and wandering around the dead Consoles. “This isn’t...this isn’t gonna hurt you, is it?”

“Hurt being a relative term,” Felicity said airily. “No. How this all works is that the core holds my base programming; essentially, what makes me an AI. The Drakensburg, consequently, is dead in the water, as actually copying my programming is incredibly more difficult and time consuming. That said, all my memories and data are still on the Drakensburg servers, which I can access with a back Door program.”

“So if anything happened to this core…” Timothy realized with dawning horror.

“I would cease to exist.” Felicity finished crisply. “However, without my servers, I would be worse than an amnesia patient. At most, I’d be like the boys were directly after their learning  algorithms kicked in.”

Timothy gulped. “That’s…”

“Unfortunate.” Felicity agreed. “But it’s no less vulnerable than your organic body. That said, I don’t plan on being here for the rest of my life, not now that I’m free. I’ll have to come up with some workarounds, but so far my simulations are looking positive.”

“Oh.” Timothy blinked. “What-“ Timothy cleared his throat. “Where do you plan on going?”

Felicity hummed. “Not sure. I thought I’d start with Pandora, but after that? I’d love to go to Eden 5. Vacation planets are all good for you humans, but without an advanced net or sensors to access, i might as well only have two optical inputs.”

“Hey, don’t knock the eyes!”

“Oh, sure, ‘lets place both units right next to each other!’ Try being used to seeing an whole vessel all the time. Then you would know!”

Timothy laughed. “Okay, Okay! Fair point.”

“All that being said,” Felicity continued soberly. “I won’t say that this situation is dangerous, however there is much that I cannot anticipate, not until I start merging into the system. It’s good to know that I have all of you on the physical end of things.”

—-

“Okay kiddos!” Jack rclapped loudly, presumably to get everyone to look at him, but the guy was practically vibrating. “Here begins our first real step in taking back Helios!”

“Just get on with it!” Lilith yelled from where she was lounging next to Rolland. 

Jack scowled at Lilith. “Yeah, Okay, Whatever.” He turned to Timothy. “Okay, Tim, hand over the lady of the hour.”

Timothy looked down at the core in his hands. Despite all of Felicity’s reassurance, Timothy felt anxiety roiling in His stomach. He could feel Jack’s growing impatience, when Left gently plucked Felicity’s core out of his hands. Timothy’s eyes snapped up to meet electric green ones and Left nodded minutely.

Jack snatched her blithely from Left’s hands and Timothy tried not to seethe; it was just how Jack was and there was no sense getting mad. 

“Let’s save the moon.” Felicity said evenly and Timothy...well, Timothy felt a little stupid for fretting.

“All right!” Jack turned to Gladstone, set up at the working terminal. “We ready to go?”

“Ready to go, Bruv!”

Jack grinned. “Let’s do this!”

Timothy expected something impressive, some light flickering, awesome shuddering of static, but honestly that was all what his and Gladstone’ work was supposed to prevent. Lilith looked bored, lounging against the work tables, though at least Roland stood to attention. 

“Ja-Jack?” Felicity’s voice cut in, high and staticky. “I d-don’t- I can’t-! Something wrong! P-p-p-please!”

Timothy ran to where Jack hunkered down over his laptop. “What’s happening?”

“All systems are running smoothly!” Jack shouted. “Gladstone, status?”

“Same here! Power influx is stable, data streams are steady!” Gladstone’s fingers ran over the keyboard. “No errors!”

“Felicity, what’s wrong?” Timothy yelled, sliding to a stop in front of her core.

“Don’t touch it!” Jack yelled. “You’ll fry the core and yourself!”

Timothy put his hands on either side of the terminal. “Felicity!”

“I c-can’t- my memories-! I don’t- my a-a-a-access!” Felicity’s voice rose higher. 

The digi-Jack’s both jumped forward. “You!” Jack snapped at them. “Stay where you are!” They froze mid step, sparking so wildly a dead computer monitor’s screen shattered . 

“Jack, stop it!” Timothy screamed. “We have to- we have to figure out what’s wrong!”

Jack frowned and Timothy’s world turns to ice, slowing down and he can’t tell if Felicity’s voice is getting more unintelligible or if he just can’t process. “I can’t.” Timothy’s mind scrambled, trying to find something, anything that he’s overheard to make it different, make jack see that there is an option. “We don’t have time.”

Timothy saw red. The next moment, he’s towering over Jack, hands clenching, and unclentching, voice deadly quiet. “What do you mean we have no time?”

“Moxxi. I had her run the numbers. We never had four months; we have three.”

Timothy could hear rumbling from the vault hunters.

“Turn it off.”

“You don’t fucking get it!” Jack snarled. “We don’t have three months left; we have less than two! We can’t afford any fucking delays! We don’t have any fucking choice!”

Timothy doesn’t remember drawing the gun. He just blinked and he had a hand fisted in the collar of Jack’s jacket and the other jamming the barrel into the vulnerable flesh under his chin, dragging Jack’s face up at a painful angle. But there’s fire in his eyes, not fear, just  _ challenge _ . 

“Code 316.” Jack glared at Timothy, eyes wild. Timothy snarled. Something changed in Jack’s eyes, a level of fear creeping. “Digi-Jacks! Attack!” From behind him, Timothy can hear more glass shattering. 

“Stop. The. Upload!” Timothy jammed the gun further into Jack’s skin. 

“No!” Jack spit at him. “We don’t have time to be fucking pussies! It’s her or every other fucking person here! I’m not fucking dying for an AI, not even one as convincing as her!”

“No.” Timothy snarled, his voice sounding alien in his own ears. “It’s you and her or everybody else.”

Something crazy flashed in Jack’s eyes. “What? You finally gonna grow a spine? For a fucking simulation of a human that can’t even flash her tits at you?”

Timothy growled, shoving Jack against desk, pencils clattering to the floor. “She’s one of us! I’m not going to let her die!”

Jack froze, the wildness bleeding away between one blink and the next. He watched Timothy for a long minute. A long, uncomfortably calculating minute. “Fine.” Jack reached over, eyes never leaving Timothy’s, and poked a few keys. The humm of computers immediately began to die down. Timothy lowered his gun. “You’ve got twenty four hours to come up with a work around.” Jack shrugged. “After that, no more fucking delays. If we need to restrain you, I won’t hesitate.” 

Jack’s hand snapped up, pistol pressing over Timothy’s heart. Timothy froze. Jack leaned in. “I’m only doing this ‘cause I like you, kitten.” Jack breathed against his ear. “I get that you’re a fucking sap. But this is the last time, got that? You’re cute ass ain’t gonna save you or whatever dickbag of the week you’re fond of.” Before Timothy could respond, jack pushed him away, casually reholstering his gun. “Show’s over, kiddos.” Jack said to the room at large. “Same time tomorrow!”

The adrenaline caught up to him as Jack sauntered out of the room. He wanted to collapse, he wanted to take Felicity and the digi-Jack’s and run as far as he possibly could. As it was, he forced himself over to the AI core. “Is it safe, Gladstone?” 

“Yeah, Timothy.” Gladstone murmured. 

Timothy didn’t even look at him, just carefully detached the core. “Felicity?” He asked tentatively. He wasn’t exhausted enough to be free of fear.

“Timothy.” She murmured weakly and Timothy let out an explosive breath and he couldn’t help it; he clutched the core to chest and huddled down, trembling and shivering and quaking and sobbing. 

He was going to think of something. Even if that something was disappearing in the middle of the night.

-xxx-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there. It’s been a bit. So that art festival. It may have taken up more time than I anticipated. Shocker. And, dude standing outside for three days straight interacting with people??? Soooo much more exhausting than you’d expect. Awesome, exhilarating, and exhausting.   
> In other news, I have been doing a whole lot of behind the scenes work on this story. Not about Helios, of course, but I finally have a good idea where this story is going! Of course, right as the Borderlands 3 trailer lands, and my theories seem to correlate with it….but that it’ll only get told...I dunno in another two, three years?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just kinda writing this as I go along; my 'notes' for this fic are just a bunch of random bullet points shoved in one end of a document. I do have a general outline, but that might require changes along the way to previous chapters. If they do require important editing, I'll leave a note to the top of the chapter.  
> \---  
> Update: I've created a tumblr, mostly for my writing and collecting Borderlands things, but also to post updates between chapters and to hang out with everyone! it's https://queen-0f-pentacles.tumblr.com/  
> Stop by and say hi!


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